


Out of the Rubble

by der_tanzer



Series: Between Carson and King Harbor [1]
Category: Emergency!, Riptide (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-21
Updated: 2011-04-21
Packaged: 2017-10-18 11:50:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 41,619
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/188613
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/der_tanzer/pseuds/der_tanzer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A natural disaster solves more problems than it causes. Eventually.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Earthquake

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place in 1987, so post-canon for both shows. However, the _Emergency!_ segments of the story are set in that 1970s world, saving us from having to keep up with reality. So both segments should be familiar to fans of each show, without any of that pesky technological progress getting in the way.  
> 

His friends waited at the curb, holding the cab, while Murray ran inside. It was a beautiful old hotel, a historic building that was scheduled for retrofitting in the next year, though the owners were fighting it. No one wanted to see the classic brick structure modified, in spite of damage from previous earthquakes. It didn’t even have an elevator. Murray wouldn’t have elected to stay there, but he had joined the conference too late to get in anywhere else, and he didn’t want to drive back and forth every day. Cody had driven him in and would pick him up in a couple days. For a last minute deal, it wasn’t too bad.

“Oh, no. I forgot my notes for the speech. I’ll be right back,” Murray said, already turning back toward the hotel. He was in Carson for a conference, at which he’d agreed to speak at the last minute. But not if he didn’t have his notes. He’d written it too quickly, and too late at night, to remember much of it now.

He climbed the five flights of stairs, realizing on the third floor landing that he could have left his briefcase and portable computer with the guys holding the cab. But he hadn’t, so he adjusted his grip and kept climbing. In the room, he set his briefcase on the desk and popped it open, put the notes inside and latched the case.

“Next time I’ll remember this,” he muttered to himself. “Five flights of stairs for three sheets of paper. I can’t believe I do these things.”

Murray shifted the computer to his right hand and reached for the briefcase. A tremble in the floor made him pause, hand outstretched, and then the entire building was moving. He looked up and saw the ceiling light fixture swaying in a gentle circle. It had been a long time since he’d last seen that but he remembered what it meant. The movement grew stronger, the light fixture swaying in wider circles, and he let out a little yelp. He jerked his hand back from the briefcase and ran for the door. It was still standing open, but just as he reached it, the floor tilted alarmingly and he fell. Forgetting to let go of his computer, he crab-crawled toward the doorway as the building rocked and shook. Then things were falling, bricks and beams and plaster rained down on him, and he released the computer to cover his head.

Down on the street, Daniel Weingarten and Clarence Estevez sat in the waiting cab and watched the falling debris. The pavement was breaking around them, power lines waving and snapping, dropping to the pavement where they undulated lazily in the turmoil, spitting angry sparks. And then the hotel began to collapse. Bricks spilled from the façade, windows blew out into the street, and a handful of people came tumbling down the front steps, escaping directly into the rain of glass. Daniel and Clarence were glad to see that Murray wasn’t among them. But when the shaking stopped and they saw the devastation of the fine old hotel, it began to seem like he would have been better off falling down the steps and getting cut.

***

It was dark when Murray opened his eyes. He was lying on his left side, his arms still wrapped around his head, his body numb and mind confused. Something itchy tickled his skin and pawed at his face, his hand coming away gritty with dust. At first, he couldn’t remember where he was or why he was buried in plaster. Then it began to come back. The movement, the light fixture, the sound. _Earthquake._ It was only his second one, the first having been two years ago when he and Nick and Cody were out at sea. That had been a little bit fun; the swelling waves and violent rocking was like a carnival ride and made Nick throw up. But it was epicentered miles away so the effects weren’t so bad. This time it was obviously a bit closer.

He tried to move and the pain that flared up his legs made him feel like throwing up, too. Something heavy was lying across his lower body, but the numbness that surrounded the shooting pain made it impossible to tell what it was, or exactly what part of his body was trapped. He felt around with light, questing fingers, but it was just out of reach and he couldn’t quite raise up enough to touch it. Feeling for other things, he found mostly unidentifiable chunks of ceiling, and possibly wall. Something cut his fingertip and he jerked his hand back, instinctively sticking his finger in his mouth. The dirt tasted awful, but when he tried to spit, he found his mouth was as dry as the dust on his hands. The inside of his nose felt dry and cracked, too, and he wished pitifully for a single swallow of water. Or even to be allowed to rinse his mouth and spit out the dirt.

There was sound, too. He could hear it now. People in the building, moving things, sending vibrations through the wood and brick that he felt in the same way worms must feel people’s footsteps. Like the guys in the cowboy movies who pressed their ears to train tracks, listening for the train. He tried to gather enough strength to shout and passed out again before he managed it.

***

The quake was felt in King Harbor, rocking the _Riptide_ in her slip and bringing Cody up from his cabin to see if someone was hot-dogging with a speedboat again. He stood on the deck, watching the waves but not seeing the cause until he turned and looked ashore. The peculiar swaying of the power lines was instantly recognizable and he shouted for Nick to come up. If it got worse, they needed to be on deck. But as they crouched there, holding hands and prepared to leap in any direction, the surface of the water grew calm.

“Was that out at sea or inland?” Nick asked, straightening up on shaking knees.

“I don’t know. Let’s go in and turn on the TV. It’ll be on in a minute.” They were still holding hands as they went inside, but Cody went forward to turn on the set while Nick stayed by the door. Cody turned up the volume and returned to him, in case there were aftershocks and they needed to get out again.

But the water stayed calm and the power lines were still.

“It’s east of us,” Nick whispered, squeezing Cody’s hand hard.

“We don’t know for that sure.”

Then, a few minutes later, the _Gilligan’s Island_ rerun was interrupted for an emergency news report, and they did.

“Epicentered in Carson, the quake registered six point three on the Richter Scale—relatively mild for this well-prepared area. Hardest hit is this tiny hotel, _The Carriage Inn_ , which was opened for business in 1932 and recently added to the Los Angeles County Historical Registry. It’s been the center of a minor controversy over the last two years as the owners fought mandated retrofitting to bring the building up to the standards of…”

The reporter went on talking, but Nick and Cody were no longer listening. They were staring at the remains of _The Carriage Inn_. The five story hotel was leaning drunkenly against a neighboring building, one strong enough to hold itself up and support the Inn as well. But it wasn’t just leaning, it was staggered. Chunks of it seemed to be gone, and though they knew it was five stories, it looked more like three.

“That—that’s Murray’s hotel, isn’t it?” Nick whispered.

“What floor was he on?”

“Um—five. I think it was five. Jesus, Cody. What if he was on the stairs?”

“No. No way, Nick. No way. He was probably at the conference center. It’s the middle of the morning, he wouldn’t be at the hotel.”

“Yeah. Yeah, that’s right,” Nick said gratefully. “He could’ve been anywhere. He’ll call us in a few minutes and tell us he’s fine.”

“Yeah, he will. That’s what he does,” Cody said, almost babbling with the relief of a man grasping at straws. “He’ll want to know if we felt it and tell us how exciting it was. I just—I hope he didn’t leave his computer in the room. That’d break his heart if he lost his favorite portable.”

“No kidding. But he had it at the conference, I’m sure. He takes that thing everywhere—at least when he’s working. It’s fine. He’s fine. Everything’s fine.” Nick was babbling too, and barely managed to stop himself when he saw Cody’s stricken face.

“Yeah, it’s fine,” Cody muttered.

Then the reporter said something that registered in their ears as if they’d been listening for it.

“Among the missing is noted computer scientist, Dr. Murray Bozinsky, who was last seen by friends entering the hotel. Dr. Bozinsky is in town for the Com-Tech conference, at which he was scheduled as a last minute speaker. There are nine hotel guests and five employees still missing, in addition to Dr. Bozinsky.”

“This is going to go national in about five minutes,” Cody said, his voice soft and stunned. “His parents are going to see it.”

“Yeah,” Nick said hoarsely. “Um—what are we supposed to do? Cody, what—what do we do?”

“I’m calling his mother and telling her we’re on our way down there to get him. You’re driving. Can you drive?” Cody was already shaking so badly, he couldn’t even consider driving himself. Nick was shaking, too, but given some responsibility, he grew steadier at once.

“Can I—yes, of course I can drive, but we’re taking your car. Make your call and let’s get going.”

The drive that should have taken half an hour was stretched to nearly three hours by fender-benders, emergency vehicles, and dead stoplights, and then they couldn’t get within a mile of the hotel. They abandoned the Jimmy without a second thought and started walking, asking for directions every time they saw police or fire officials. It was two in the afternoon before they reached _The Carriage Inn_ , which was cordoned off and surrounded by almost as much rescue equipment as they’d seen in the last two miles combined. They were finally stopped for good a block away, where the police were holding everyone back. Camera crews were filming, reporters were talking, and everyone else seemed to be some kind of stunned civilian. A few were demanding to be let into neighboring buildings and the fact that the hotel could fall on them didn’t seem to be a persuasive argument.

“Hey,” Nick yelled, grabbing onto a firefighter who was passing on the other side of the barricade. “Hey, I need information.”

“I don’t have time to talk to the press,” he said shortly, trying to pull free. But he was smaller than Nick, and even with his equipment adding weight, he couldn’t get away.

“I’m not press. I’m looking for my friend, Murray Bozinsky.”

“Hey, you and me both. But can’t do anything for your friend if I’m standing here talking to you.”

“What does that mean?” Nick asked, his hand falling away. “It’s been four hours. Where’s Murray?”

The firefighter shrugged and went on his way to the truck across the street. Nick turned to Cody, his face full of fear.

“I don’t understand. Where’s Murray? Don’t they know where they sent him?”

“Hey,” someone called. “Hey, over there.” A small tumult ensued in the crowd behind the barrier, and a short, pudgy man shoved his way through. He was covered in dust, his hands scratched and bloody. He pressed up close to them and leaned tiredly against the sturdiest barrier post.

“You’re looking for Murray? Are you his roommates?”

“Yeah, I’m Cody Allen. This is Nick Ryder. Do you know what’s going on?”

“Yeah—I—I’m Daniel Weingarten. I’m here for the conference, too. I’m—or I _was_ —I don’t know. I was on the same floor as Murray, but we went down to the cab together and then he went back. We, Clarence and I, had just gotten in the cab when the quake hit. We tried to get into the building as soon as it was over, but we couldn’t get anywhere. Then the fire department showed up and moved us over here.” He looked down at his ineffectual programmer’s hands, torn and dirty with the effort of doing a firefighter’s job, and shook his head. “We’ve been here for four hours and there hasn’t been any word. They’ve found a couple survivors on the second floor, but the first floor is crushed and the—the stairs are mostly gone. They’re working their way in as fast as they can, but it needs so much shoring up. It’s—Jesus, guys. This is about the worst thing I’ve ever seen. They keep bringing out bodies and you can’t even recognize them.”

“If—if you can’t recognize them,” Cody stammered, “how do—how do you know…?”

“I guess we don’t. Not for sure. But they haven’t gotten above the third floor and he—he had time to get all the way up to his room. If he’s up there, if he didn’t have a chance to start back down, it could still be hours.”

“Hours? No,” Nick said, shaking his head. “No, they can’t just leave him up there alone. He must be hurt. And—and scared. We have to help. They’ll let us help, Cody. They’ll need volunteers.”

Cody agreed with just a look. They ducked under the barriers, dodged emergency personnel, and fetched up at the sidewalk next to a cab with a shattered windshield and roof dented by fallen brick. But before they could make a move in a helpful direction, the same firefighter who’d blown them off before grabbed Cody’s arm and spun him around.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

“To help. Our friend’s in there and you need all the help you can get.”

“Not from untrained amateurs, we don’t. A collapsing building is no place to go exploring. If you want to help, go donate blood or something.”

“Hey, Kelly,” someone yelled. “They need that pry bar _now_.”

“Just get behind the barricade, will you? Don’t make our job harder.” He let go of Cody and strode over to a ladder braced against the tilted face of the building. They watched him climb it, the iron bar in one hand, and then turned to the man giving orders.

“Let us help,” Nick said without preamble. “Please, this is a mess and you need more men.”

“Who are you?”

“We’re friends of Murray Bozinsky. Please, just let us help you.”

“Sorry, I can’t do that. We don’t have enough gear and you don’t know what you’re doing. We’re not even up to his floor, and I don’t know if we’re going to get there before dark. And, if that’s not enough, the last thing we need is people with emotional involvement running all over our procedures. Now, if you don’t mind, I have a disaster to run.”

“But it’s our disaster, too,” Cody said quietly.

“And I sympathize. Believe me. Look, we have another truck company responding from across town, so that’ll speed things up some. And if you two promise to stay right here and not try to get inside, I’ll let you stay on this side of the barricade. If you do try to get in, I’ll have you arrested. Got that?”

“Yes, sir,” Cody said, stopping Nick from arguing. “Thank you, uh…”

“Captain Stanley. Now stay out of the way, will you?”

“Yes, sir,” Nick echoed, shoving his hands in his pockets. He still hated it, he wanted to be inside helping Murray, but at least they had a name now. If anyone else tried to throw them out, they could invoke Captain Stanley, who seemed to be in charge.

***

Murray was cold. When he woke again, unaware of how long he’d been out this time, it was with the hope that the sun would be up. He badly needed it to be day again. He was wearing a short sleeved, high buttoned shirt with a light jacket, which was perfect for the hot and overcrowded conference hall. But here in the dark—his room exposed to the night air—he shivered. His earlier dreams of a glass of cold water were exchanged for a pot of hot tea. With maybe a little warm water to clear his sinuses, which still weren’t letting him breathe very well. He ran his dry tongue over his dry lips and tried once more to push himself up, staring blindly in the direction of the window. He couldn’t find it, couldn’t see anything, and it seemed like all of his senses were being deadened.

But gradually it came to him that there was noise. People shouting somewhere, vibrations like he’d felt before, and a sound like a saw nearby. No, not a saw. An air compressor. It ratcheted and blatted, filling all of the space around it with noise, swallowing everything else. When it kicked down, he heard the voices again. They had to be close. But did _they_ know that?

Murray tried to clear his throat, summoning a small amount of saliva through sheer force of will, and yelled as loud as he could. It came out a squeak, barely audible even to himself. He filled his lungs, closed his eyes, and shouted again—a long, drawn out cry for help. For a few seconds, all the other sounds stopped and he was lost in silence. Then the vibration started again. Murray closed his eyes and let himself drift away.

***

Nick and Cody sat on the bumper of an ambulance and watched the scene as the sun went down. A few more bodies were brought out, and two survivors from the third floor, but the crew wasn’t up to the fifth yet. Every hour or so, Captain Stanley paused and said something encouraging, but after they’d sat there for ten hours, neither was terribly impressed.

They saw port-a-johns trucked in, volunteers bringing sandwiches and bottled water, firefighters sitting down to rest in turn but never giving up. There were four companies present, an engine, two trucks and a snorkel, and nearly forty men in turnout coats and boots working their way through the building. Even in the Guard, Nick had never worked a rescue operation like this one. He was a pilot and only responded to incidents that could be resolved with a helicopter. So they couldn’t really wrap their heads around what was happening here or why it was taking so long.

“I hate this so much,” Cody whispered. “I’m almost glad they wouldn’t let us in—I’d have no clue what to do in there, except paw at the bricks until my hands bled like that friend of his did. But I feel so—so…”

“Totally and completely useless? Me too.”

“Nick, do you think he’s all right? Do you think he could really be in there and still be okay?”

“Sure, man. I mean, he’s probably hungry by now. And thirsty. So, you know, he’s unhappy, but he’s still okay, right?”

“I hope so,” Cody said. He braced his elbows on his knees and buried his face in his hands.

“Hey, Cody, it’s—it’s okay.” Nick put his arm around him and gave him a little shake.

“He should have gotten himself out by now. He should at least be leaning out a window and yelling for help. Nick, what if—?”

Nick shook him hard, making Cody’s teeth click together and cutting him off short.

“Stop it. He’s fine, I promise. Probably under his bed and can’t get out. But they’re going to find him. They’re looking for him, man. Not just for survivors or guests or whoever. They’re looking for _Murray_ , and they’re going to find him. That’s what these guys do.”

“Yeah,” Cody murmured. “Yeah, you’re right. It’s midnight, he’s been trapped in there for fifteen hours, but he’s fine. Of course he’s fine.”

“Stop that,” Nick commanded. “Just stop it before I go in there to get away from you.”

“You’ll get arrested.”

“So, I’ll still be away from you.”

Cody looked up and gave him a dirty look in the harsh glare of the emergency floodlights. They stared at each other, each waiting for the other to break first, and then a burst of static interrupted. Captain Stanley had his back to them, but he turned around as he lifted the handheld radio to his mouth and they knew he had something.

“Rescue 51 to Engine 51.”

“Engine 51 here. Go ahead, Rescue 51.”

“We’ve made it up to five. There’s one occupied room, end of the hall on the east side, but we can’t get in. The door’s jammed partway open so we’re gonna have to cut through it. Give us a few minutes to try with the ax, but be ready to send Kelly up with the K-12.”

“Copy that, Rescue 51. Any idea who the victim is?”

“Uh, that’s negative so far. I’ll let you know when we get inside.”

“Copy. We’re standing by.”

“Is that good news?” Nick asked, rising to meet the captain halfway.

“It is for somebody. They don’t know if it’s your friend, but he must’ve been making a lot of noise for them to hear him before they swept the room.”

“That has to be Murray. He’s always making some kind of noise, right, Cody?”

“Yeah. He’s—he’s loud,” Cody said, stumbling backward to find his seat on the bumper.

“You okay?” the captain asked, a little more sympathetic now that he’d known them for ten hours.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just—just nervous.”

“Well, I’ll tell you one thing. Those men we have inside right now are the best in the county. Maybe in the state. If your friend’s up there, they’ll find him. And if he can be saved, they’ll save him. That may not comfort you much, but believe me, it should.”

Up on the fifth floor, two men in heavy coats and helmets took turns wielding an ax against the blocked door of room 504. It wouldn’t give at the base, so they chopped through it eighteen inches above the floor and pushed through the top part. Even that stopped short of fully open, and the thinner of the two men leaned in with a flashlight to look around.

“Hello? Can you hear me? Is there someone there? Doctor Bozinsky?”

“What do you see, Johnny?”

“A mess. Doctor Bozinsky, can you hear me?” he called, more loudly. Then, lowering his voice, “Roy, I’m going in. I know the voice was coming from this room.”

“Yeah, I think you’re right. Go see what you can find.”

***

Murray thought he heard someone calling his name and resisted dimly. He was tired and he didn’t want to get up. His throat hurt and he couldn’t breathe very well. He wondered if he was sick. Maybe the guys wouldn’t make him go to work. Maybe they were waking him up to give him water or soup. He’d like some soup.

The voices stopped, and were replaced by a tremendous noise, almost as bad as the collapse of the hotel to his injured head and fragile nerves. The vibrations were unbearable and he let himself go vague again, trying to escape. Then the noise stopped and the voice was there, calling him back.

“Cody?” he said weakly, coughing it out with the dust in his throat. “Is that you?”

“Murray Bozinsky? Can you keep talking? Say something so I can find you.”

“I’m here, Cody. Do you have water? I need a drink of water.”

Light splashed across his face and he struggled to get his hand up over his eyes. But it had been too long and he was too tired. He closed his eyes and drifted while the newcomer moved bricks and boards. The grinding, scraping sounds kept him from getting away, and then a vicious slash of pain shot up his formerly numb legs and brought him screaming back to reality.

A firm but gentle hand pressed against his throat for a moment before shifting to his shoulder.

“You’re gonna be all right,” said the voice that was oddly like Cody’s yet not. “My name’s Johnny Gage. I’m a paramedic with the LA County Fire Department. My partner’s right outside the door and we’re gonna take care of you, okay? Just stay calm.”

Murray raised his left hand and laid it over the hand on his shoulder.

“Fire department?” he whispered. “Is there a fire?”

“No, there’s no fire. Just lie still and let me look you over. Are you Murray Bozinsky?”

“Yes. Can I have some water now?”

“Let me check you out first. Roy,” he called, raising his voice, “get the biophone and drug box up here. And we’re going to need some splints. And some equipment to move this rubble.”

They’d fought their way up the collapsed staircases from the third floor, but equipment could be lifted up through the windows in the halls. Roy went to affix the pulley he’d carried all the way up here and drop a rope down to the crew on the ground.

“Water?”

“As soon as we can. Let me get your pulse, okay? Just lie still, Murray. It’s gonna be okay.”

“I can’t move,” he whispered, feeling the need to share what information he had about the situation.

“I know you can’t, but we’re gonna take care of that. I’m here now, okay? I’m here and I won’t leave without you.”

“Thank you,” Murray said and closed his eyes.

“Hey, wait. You have to do your part, Murray. Stay with me, okay? Stay awake.”

“I’m awake. My friends…”

“What friends? Is there someone else in the room?” A tone of command entered the previously stern but soothing voice, snapping him back to himself.

“They were in the cab. We went down to the cab and they stayed there. Can I have a drink now?”

“I can’t give you any water yet.” As he spoke, he was examining Murray’s upper body, going over his ribs and abdomen with gentle, latex-gloved hands, in search of tenderness and swelling. Almost miraculously, he didn’t find anything but a few scrapes and bruises. And he learned that Murray was ticklish, even in a dire situation. “I saw your friends down on the street and they’re fine, okay? Some other guys came to wait for you, too. You must be popular.”

“Nick and Cody came? They’re here?”

“Yeah, they’re here,” he said confidently. He wasn’t sure if those were the names, but it seemed to make the patient feel better to think so.

“Good. That’s good.”

“Uh-huh. A lot of people are here to help you. I’m gonna take your glasses off for a minute, okay? Don’t worry, I won’t lose them.”

“The lens is cracked anyway.”

“Okay. Can you see me? Is there enough light?”

“I can see a little.”

“Good. That’s good.” Murray’s eyes had to be adjusted to the light before he could test their reactions. He laid the flashlight down by Murray’s head so it illuminated the scene without shining directly in his face and took out his penlight. “Just hold still for me, okay?” He held Murray eyes open one at a time and flicked the light across them rapidly.

“Am I all right?”

“You’re doing fine.” Johnny put the light away and called for Roy to hurry up.

“How are my pupils?” he asked, smiling weakly at the surprise on the other man’s face. “I’m a scientist, Johnny Gage. I know things.”

“Your pupils are fine—equal and reactive. And your memory’s pretty good, too. Most people don’t get my name the first time.”

“Oh, well, I’m good with names. I don’t think I hit my head, but—how long have I been here? Is it late?”

“It’s after midnight. You’ve been here almost fifteen hours now.”

“Dehydration’s clouding my thinking. Am I bleeding? I’ve been worried about blood loss. When I was awake, at least. I don’t think I’ve been awake very much.”

“That’s okay. I don’t see any signs of serious bleeding here. Can you move your feet? Wiggle your toes?”

“It hurts. What’s on me? Can you get it off?”

“They’re bringing equipment right now to get you out of here. And I told you I’m not going to leave, okay? That means I have to get you out or I can’t go, either.”

“You don’t want to stay here, do you?”

“Not for one minute more than I have to. But it’s gonna be fine. My partner, Roy, he’s bringing the medical equipment and we’re gonna start treating you. We’ll all be out of here before you know it.”

Roy stepped over the shattered door and made his way through the brick rubble to kneel on Murray’s other side. He handed Johnny the BP cuff and began setting up the biophone.

“How’s he doing?”

“He’s conscious and oriented, pupils equal and reactive, complains of pain and numbness in his legs.”

“To be fair, I wasn’t really complaining,” Murray put in.

“You’re right. It’s just jargon. You’ve been great,” Johnny said, patting his shoulder.

“Kelly and Marco are working with Ladder 34 to get a stokes and some lifting equipment up here,” Roy told them. “Doctor Bozinsky? I’m Roy DeSoto. I’m Johnny’s partner and we’re going to be taking care of you, okay?”

Murray felt vaguely patronized by the careful enunciation and the constant reassurances, but he also felt comforted, and was still savvy enough to get that that was the point. They were treating him like a child, but that was okay. Right now he felt like a child. A very scared, broken, lonely child who needed someone with absolute confidence to take care of him.

“I’m okay,” Murray agreed. He frowned to himself as Johnny took his arm and sliced his jacket sleeve to the shoulder before attaching the cuff. He winced as it was inflated and distracted himself by focusing on Johnny’s intent, if blurred, expression. At some point, the paramedic had taken off his helmet and Murray thought he looked like a doctor with his stethoscope and serious face. That was good. He suspected he needed a doctor.

Roy reported his vitals over the biophone and got permission from the hospital to start an IV, which Johnny was already setting up before the word came down. He didn’t think he’d ever seen a patient who needed it more, and every minute that passed was going to make it harder to find a vein.

“Okay, Murray,” he said, slowly and clearly. “I’m going to start an IV here. It’ll just be a little stick and then you’ll start feeling better.”

“Something for the pain?”

“We can’t give you anything until we know how badly you’re hurt. But the fluids will help hydrate you and clear your head.”

He sighed at the cold sting of alcohol and tried to steel himself for the needle.

“Just relax, Murray. This won’t hurt.”

“Yes it will. Don’t tell me you’re going to stick me with a needle and expect me to relax.”

“All right, that’s fair,” Roy said with a laugh. “It probably will hurt, but just for a second, and it needs to be done. You’re a doctor, right?”

“My degrees are in computers,” he said, closing his eyes.

“Have you got this, John?”

“Yeah, I’ve got it. Murray, are you still with me? Open your eyes, Murray.” There was no response and Johnny shook him lightly. “Come on, Murray, stay with me.”

“I’m here,” he muttered. “Go ahead.”

Johnny tied a tourniquet on his arm and swabbed again, cleaning a wider area. It took him three tries to get the vein but Murray didn’t complain. He listened to the men working and talking over him, saying obscure medical things that didn’t make any sense. He hoped that was the pain and dehydration and not his own ignorance. It was so annoying to be the topic of a conversation that he couldn’t understand.

“Johnny?” he whispered. “I—I’m having trouble breathing.”

“Okay, just hang on.” Johnny put the stethoscope back on and listened briefly to his lungs.

“Roy, we’re gonna need some oxygen. And his heart rate’s slowing. Pulse is down to thirty.”

“Okay. I’m going to have to call that in.” But first he got on the radio and told the captain to send up an oxygen bottle.

“Johnny?”

“You hang on, Murray. Okay? Just hang on.”

The hand on his shoulder was still gentle and firm, soothing his fear but not solving his immediate problem. Murray took a breath and tried to cough, but it turned into choking.

“Rampart, the patient appears to have aspirated plaster dust and is having trouble breathing,” Roy was saying. “Correction, Rampart, the patient is now choking. Pulse rate is down to thirty.”

“Murray, you keep being strong,” Johnny said firmly. He helped Murray roll forward as much as the rubble that pinned him would allow and positioned his head to maximize his airway. “Come on and cough. That’s it, you can do this. Just breathe for me. We’re gonna help you, but you have to keep breathing.”

“Johnny, are you okay for a minute? I’m going to get the oxygen.”

“Yeah, we’re okay. Just make it quick.” He pinned the flashlight between his chin and shoulder and sorted out the drugs they’d been authorized to give. “Murray, I’m gonna give you a couple injections now. It’ll make you feel better, okay?”

“Not going to tell me it won’t hurt?” he grinned, and then fell back, coughing.

“You’ve had shots before, right? It won’t hurt worse than that.” He swabbed Murray’s narrow upper arm and injected the contents of three syringes in rapid succession.

“That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

“I didn’t feel a thing. What was it for?” he coughed out, struggling to cover his mouth.

“It’s just medicine to make you feel better. Don’t worry about it, okay?”

“No, please,” Murray said desperately. “It—it helps me stay calm if I know what’s going on. Please.”

“All right, settle down. One is a drug to help keep fluid from collecting in your lungs and the other two will raise and regulate your heart rate, okay? See, we’re taking good care of you.”

“I know you are. I just need things to think about. I—I’m scared.”

“I know you’re scared,” he said patiently. “I know you are. But it’s going to be okay.” He kept saying that, his tone firm and confident, as if fear could respond to logic.

But Murray was an inherently logical man, and he found that it did. It was easy to believe in these men’s abilities. When Johnny said he would be okay, it comforted him the same way Nick’s assurances that he could land a crippled helicopter did. Nick had never let them crash, Cody had never let him get shot, and Johnny Gage wouldn’t let him die. In his confused and wounded state, he added that to his list of bedrock facts and stopped asking questions. Anyway, he needed to cough.

“That’s gonna get better real soon,” Johnny said. Murray nodded, still coughing, and Johnny had to stop him from raising his hand to his mouth and disturbing the IV. They were still for a moment, Murray struggling to breathe and Johnny rubbing his forearm lightly, reassuringly. Then Roy came back with the oxygen and strapped the mask over Murray’s face. His wide brown eyes flew open and Johnny rubbed his arm a little more firmly, distracting him again.

“Where are we with the rescue gear?” he asked Roy, quietly, so Murray wouldn’t be scared.

“They’re working on it. The window pulley won’t take the weight so they’re going to have to use the snorkel. The problem is,” he went on, lowering his voice further, “they need to shore up the building a little more before it’s safe to move in this close. And shoring it up—isn’t exactly safe.”

“Yeah, okay,” Johnny nodded. “But we need to get this guy out of here somehow.”

***

On the ground, Nick and Cody were gathering what information they could from the sparse radio relays and chatter among the crews. They kept their eyes on Captain Stanley, and he looked back at them often enough to confirm that what he was hearing was of interest to them. They sat and waited, taking turns restraining each other from getting up to pace, becoming more and more agitated every minute. Then the captain turned toward them and they both leapt to their feet.

“What is it?” Nick cried. Cody gripped his arm as if to hold him back, while still moving forward himself.

“Is it Murray? Have they found him?”

“The paramedics are with him now. He’s conscious and talking to them, but he’s trapped and they don’t know for sure how badly he’s hurt.”

“Well, when are they bringing him out?” Nick demanded.

“When we figure out how to get him un-trapped,” the captain snapped back. “Right now, I need to coordinate all these men to shore up the building enough to make it safe to send a crew in to free him. The rest of the building is clear, but it’s still shifting. And I get to make the decision as to how many more men I’m going to send in there, knowing it could collapse.”

“Then let us go in. If you don’t want to risk your men, let us help. We’ll die for him,” Cody said earnestly.

“I’m sorry, guys, but that doesn’t help me. You just have to keep staying out of the way and let us follow procedure here.”

“But—wait,” he cried. “You’re not going to pull your men out and—and _leave_ him there. Are you?”

“No,” Hank Stanley said with a heavy sigh. “No, they wouldn’t try to save themselves until they were certain they couldn’t save the patient, and by then it would be too late. So we’ve all got a stake in this, all right?”

“Yeah, right,” Nick said, with a tinge of disbelief. “So Murray’s talking? Is he okay? Is—is he—scared?”

“The men who are with him now are the best we have. They’ll be looking after him as well as anyone can in this situation.”

“I think that’s a yes,” Cody muttered.

“They have radios up there, right? Can we talk to him?”

“Not right now. I’m sorry, but we need the radios for official business.”

“Will you keep saying that until it’s too late?” Nick asked bitterly.

“We’re all doing the best we can here. But if it looks like it’s not going well, I’ll let you know.”

“Oh, man,” Cody sighed. “This can’t be happening.” Nick put his arm around him and led him back to the ambulance bumper to wait.


	2. The Rescue

Murray felt the floor tilt beneath him and whimpered softly. Bricks slid, and he dimly registered the paramedic’s bodies moving over him as they tried to keep him still. Then the beam that pinned him shifted, grinding his legs anew against the floor, and he screamed. Thrashing, he tried to sit up and reach for the source of the pain, wanting to push it away if he couldn’t pull himself free. The IV pulled out before Johnny caught his balance again and got hold of him, but Murray barely felt that pain. Then Johnny was gripping his arms, bearing him down with his superior strength and pinning his upper body almost as effectively as his legs.

“You can’t _do_ that,” he said sharply. “Murray, listen to me. I know you’re hurting, but you have to hold still. We’re going to get you out of here, but you have to hold still. Do you understand?”

“It hurts so bad,” Murray whispered.

“I know. I know it does.” The iron grip relaxed and Johnny eased off him just a fraction, hoping he would stay calm. “We just need to stick it out a little longer, okay? Just don’t move and we’ll get you out of here as soon as we can.”

Murray raised his bleeding right arm, slowly enough that Johnny didn’t try to restrain him, and pulled down the oxygen mask. Roy tried to replace it and he jerked his head away.

“Wait. Tell me something—what if you can’t get me out? This building’s going to collapse, right? How—how long before you—leave?”

“That’s nothing for you to worry about, okay?” Johnny said, rubbing his arm gently. “I promised I wouldn’t leave without you, remember?”

“But you might have to. You—you can’t both—die—because of me.”

“Don’t think about that, Murray. You just worry about breathing and let us figure this out.” He tried to replace the mask, but Murray wouldn’t take it from him any easier than he would from Roy.

“Wait, please. My friends—you said Nick and Cody were here. Will you tell them—tell them I’m sorry? I’m so—forgetful. If I had my notes—if I hadn’t come back—I always do this…”

“Hey,” Johnny said sternly, finally pulling his hand away and replacing the mask. “Don’t think like that, okay? If you have anything to be sorry for, which I doubt, you’ll tell them yourself. You hear me?”

“I’m scared,” he sighed, his breath fogging the mask.

“I know you are, but we’re not leaving.” His hand slid down Murray’s arm and wrapped gently around his fingers. “Hey, you hear that sound? Stay awake, Murray. You hear that sound?”

It was a low-pitched mechanical whine, small and far away, but coming closer. A whine that was as much vibration as sound, filling his ears, his body, his mind with noise.

“What…?”

“It’s the snorkel truck. That means they’ve got the building shored up enough to bring the equipment in. You’re gonna be out of here in no time.”

“What about the other people?” Murray whispered. “In the hotel? How did they get out?”

“They were lucky,” Roy said cheerfully. “No one else was pinned this badly. We’ve pretty much just been looking for you all day, and now that we’ve found you, we don’t have anything else to do.”

That was something of a lie. There were a few people trapped worse than Murray, but they had died waiting and their bodies would be recovered tomorrow when it was safer. But a big part of a paramedic’s job was saying whatever it took to keep the patients calm and submissive to the treatment. Both of them were experts at that, and Johnny had already forged a bond with Murray that would probably save his life.

“All this just for me,” he sighed.

“You’re a pretty important guy,” Johnny said. “We can’t exactly go out there and face those reporters without you. Now, I need to start a new IV. Will you hold still and let me do that?”

Murray nodded, closing his eyes. The alcohol was cold on his skin and the needle made him flinch. Fortunately, the fluids had expanded his veins enough so Johnny was able to find one on the first stick. It was one of the few small mercies that Murray would experience that night.

He started coughing again, trying to roll forward to get leverage behind it. But the angle of the floor was rolling him back and the beam didn’t have any give. He pawed at the mask again and Johnny caught his wrist, restraining him gently with one hand and positioning his head with the other.

“You’re okay, Murray. You hear me? Just take deep breaths and you’ll be okay.”

But it was brave talk. When Johnny put on the stethoscope and checked his lungs again, they sounded clogged and wet. He murmured to Roy, who called it in and then prepared another syringe. Johnny swabbed Murray’s upper arm and injected it swiftly. It would help slow the build-up in his lungs, but it wouldn’t save him. To do that, they needed to get him out of here.

It began to seem like there was hope when they heard Chet Kelly shouting from the hall window. Murray stirred a little, trying to rouse himself in case that was the sound of rescue, but he was getting too tired to care. He felt the stethoscope under his shirt, cold and hard, and another needle in his arm. Johnny wasn’t telling him what they were doing anymore, but Murray wasn’t asking, either.

“I’m going to help them get the equipment in,” Roy said, rising and stepping carefully around them. He made his way out to the hall, which had changed its orientation somewhat since he was last there. The rubble had shifted in the aftershocks, the walls were cracked, and the window they needed to use was buckling. It was the last to go, though the men upstairs didn’t know that. The window frames on the third and fourth floors were already too compressed for entry, and if the building canted any more, this one would close up and they would all be trapped. Roy could see that, even if he didn’t know what was happening below. Johnny would have known it if he saw this, just as well as Chet knew it when he climbed in. Marco Lopez knew it as he passed the jack, the airbags, the lights, and the stokes through the broken frame and then crawled in after. But there was a civilian trapped inside and nothing else mattered. No one talked about it because there was nothing to say.

Murray was vaguely aware of the increased number of people in the room, the voices and the feet shoving rubble out of the way. He heard Johnny’s voice saying something and thought it was directed at him, but he couldn’t clear his head enough to understand. He held his hand out in a wordless plea and felt Johnny’s familiar fingers wrap around his.

“Are you still with me?” he demanded, sharp and reassuring at the same time. “Murray, wake up! Wake up and listen to me!”

His throat worked in response, clicking wordlessly and making him cough under the mask. But he did manage to open his eyes and take note of the lights and equipment, causing a small bubble of hope to rise in his chest. He blinked and tried to make his eyes focus on Johnny, not remembering where his glasses even were. Maybe he’d lost them when he fell, or taken them off to rub his eyes. It didn’t really matter anymore. He squeezed Johnny’s hand as hard as he could, which barely registered by now. But Johnny felt it. His hands were remarkably sensitive to these things.

“There you are. Are you listening to me, Murray?”

He nodded weakly, keeping his eyes fixed on the blur of that comforting face.

“Okay, we’re going to try to move this beam now. They’re setting up the jacks and you’ll be out of here in no time. But it might hurt, okay?” Which everyone knew really meant _it’s going to hurt like the fires of hell_. “You just need to hold still for me, okay?”

Murray nodded, his throat working again. He needed to say this, it was important, but his throat felt like a molded plaster cast.

“Don’t let go,” he choked out. “Please, I—don’t leave me.”

“I’m not going anywhere. I’m gonna stay right here and hold your hand while my friends get you free, okay? You’re fine. You’re gonna be fine.”

“Can I have something for the pain?”

“In a little bit. It won’t be long now.” He held Murray’s hand tightly as Chet and Marco braced the high side of the beam. They barely moved it, but it was enough to cut through the numbness that shrouded Murray’s lower body. His hand clamped down on Johnny’s with surprising strength and he fought to hold back a scream.

“You’re doing great, Murray. You’re doing great, just keep it up. We’re really close now, okay?”

Murray nodded, his dirty face pale and strained under the harsh emergency lights.

“Scared…” he breathed. “Hurts.”

“I know it does. And you have every right to be scared. I would be, too. But we’ll have you out of her real soon now.”

“…you scared—now?”

“Me? No, I’m not scared,” Johnny said with a smile. Murray couldn’t really see it, but he could hear it—a faint laugh in the other man’s voice. “I do this all the time, remember? And my friends are the best in the world. We’re gonna be out of here in no time.”

Murray nodded, blinking at the dust. Half of him was convinced they would be fine, that there could be no other outcome, but the other half had already given up. He was already dead, no matter what this kind, competent man said to the contrary. Then they were fitting a jack under the low end of the beam and Murray’s world exploded in pain. Bright, fiery, technicolor strobe lights of agony flared and burned behind his eyes. He shrieked aloud, coughing blood and clots of plaster into the oxygen mask. Johnny held Murray’s hand in both of his until he stopped writhing and the coughing scream tapered off to low moan.

“That was bad, wasn’t it? I’m sorry, Murray, but it’s gonna get better. Just a few more minutes, okay?” He slipped his hands free and pulled off the mask to wipe out the blood. “Here you go. Keep breathing, okay? Just keep breathing.”

“Johnny, we’re about to lift this thing,” Roy called. He was positioned by Murray’s knees, ready to examine the injuries the moment they were revealed. “Are you two ready?”

“Are we ready, Murray?” He said it like Murray had a choice and that made it possible for him to nod. Johnny picked up his hand again, comforting him and monitoring his pulse at the same time. Outside, the compressor truck came to life, shaking the building. Murray tensed, making the pain worse, and clamped down on Johnny’s hand. He managed this time not to scream, but only until they started the jack. Relieving the pressure was somehow worse than increasing it, and he passed out mid-wail.

“Where’d he go?” Roy shouted over the ratcheting blare of the compressor. “Johnny, is he still with us?”

“Hang on.” He felt for the pulse in Murray’s neck and was perhaps more relieved than pure professionalism required when he found it. But it was weaker than before, thready and fast with less strength behind it than the vibrations in the floor. Johnny strapped the blood pressure cuff around his arm and pumped it up hastily. It was hard to hear through the stethoscope, and he couldn’t tell if it was because of the noise or because Murray’s pulse was so weak. “How’s it going over there?” he yelled.

“We’re almost there,” Kelly yelled back. “Couple more inches and then you can pull him out.”

“Well, make it fast.”

The jack creaked and groaned, slowly lifting the beam off the floor and out of the torn meat of Murray’s thigh. Roy was quick to cut away the shredded pants leg and wrap a bandage around the wound, which wasn’t bleeding as much as he’d feared. But the lack of bleeding could also indicate inhibited circulation. They wouldn’t know for sure until he was properly examined at the hospital. But that wasn’t part of their job, and they would probably never know how it turned out. Unless a big-time scientist losing a leg was news, and Johnny figured it probably was.

“How’s he doing?” Roy called as the jack whined to a halt.

“Pulse is weak and thready, BP is seventy over palp, respiration is shallow and uneven. What do you have?”

“Open fracture of the right femur, impaired circulation—the limb is cold, but not rigid. Visible tissue damage to the left thigh, possible fracture. I can’t tell. Left limb is also cold but starting to warm.”

Chet and Marco ran out to the hall to bring the stokes and backboard in through the window. All four of them worked together to get Murray onto the board, splint his legs, and strap him down. Then Roy called the hospital with the most recent status while Johnny and Chet lifted the backboard into the stokes.

“Marco, squeeze this saline bag for me,” Johnny said sharply, his cheerful confidence replaced by the commanding tone of the Man in Charge. Most of the time they were equals, but when there was an injury everyone answered to the paramedics. Marco jumped up and grabbed the bag, squeezing it hard while Johnny took another blood pressure reading.

Roy reported back another order for medication and then did the injections quickly before Marco handed Johnny the bag and lifted the stretcher. Chet took the head and Johnny walked beside it, bearing some of the weight with one hand and squeezing the bag with the other. Roy gathered up the drug box and biophone and followed.

Murray didn’t open his eyes again until they were passing him through the buckled window. He whipped his head back and saw Johnny behind him, holding the stretcher and pulling him through. It was confusing, and for a few seconds he panicked, looking around frantically for some sign of the now-familiar hotel room. When he realized he was actually up in the air, an unknown distance above the ground with nothing around him but the night sky, he tried to pull off his oxygen mask. But his arms were strapped down and he was just clearheaded enough to understand that thrashing around up here would be a very bad idea.

Johnny laid the wire stokes across the snorkel bucket and fastened it securely. Roy passed him the drug box and biophone and went back to help the guys gather up the rest of the equipment. With Johnny and the snorkel operator, as well as the stokes, there wasn’t room for anyone else.

“Hey, Murray. Are you back with us? Can you hear me?”

“Johnny? What’s going on?”

“You’re out. We’re gonna be on the ground and on the way to the hospital in just a minute.”

“Oh. Good. Will you find Nick and Cody?”

“They’ll probably find us,” he said, lightly fingering Murray’s pulse.

“Johnny, am I okay now?”

“Yeah, you’re okay. You’re fine, Murray. You’re just fine.”

Nick and Cody were standing behind Captain Stanley, watching the snorkel bucket come down in the light of the harsh floods. They were holding hands again, but the lights were aimed at the building and no one noticed. They’d hounded the captain for any information at all and learned only that Murray was sort of stable and would be on the ground soon. After repeated demands, he told them one could ride in the ambulance, if the paramedics agreed, and if they shut up right now. So they watched in silence, both men secretly planning to insist that they both be allowed to go. It had always worked in King Harbor.

The snorkel operator maneuvered the bucket skillfully to the pavement and the crew of Ladder 34 ran over to lift Murray down. Johnny handed over the equipment and leapt over the side, still remarkably energetic for a man who had been digging through rubble for sixteen hours. When they got back to the house he could take off his coat, hang up his helmet, place his boots by the bed and collapse, but until then, he was expected to keep moving just as fast as the patient needed him to.

He picked up the saline bag from where it lay in the stretcher and held it up as they hurried to the ambulance. Nick and Cody were waiting there, where they had spent the last twelve hours, and it was finally the right place to be. Captain Stanley opened the doors and told Johnny that one of them was riding along, neatly screwing them out of their chance to beg.

“All right, let’s go. Get an officer to bring the other one. We have to go _now_.” As he spoke, Johnny and the captain were lifting Murray, still strapped to the backboard, out of the stokes and laying him on the gurney. The attendant buckled yet another set of straps around him and then they were loading him up.

The whole time, Murray was looking at his friends, his eyes wide and frightened, but it was impossible to tell if he really saw them or which one he was more focused on. They wanted to know who he wanted, but when Murray tried to speak, all he could do was cough. There was more blood now, and suddenly they both knew the right thing to do. Nick stepped forward and climbed up into the ambulance across from Johnny. Cody couldn’t handle being alone with Murray’s misery, and Nick might not be very well-behaved in the police car. Especially if he thought it was taking too long.

Nick held Murray’s hand now, freeing Johnny to concentrate on the medical care. But he kept talking, telling Murray what he was doing, reassuring him in that low, confident voice that had kept him calm and fighting for his life the last hour and a half. Murray was coming to love that voice, though he had still not gotten a proper look at the man it belonged to. He held onto Nick, keeping his head turned in that direction, but it was Johnny’s latex covered hands that soothed him. That physical competence was still what he needed, his only protection against the pain.

Someone closed the ambulance door and it began to roll slowly through the crowd, weaving between rescue vehicles, and finally escaping the barricades. Inside, the attendant sat uselessly, waiting for orders, while Johnny’s work went on.

“Is he gonna be all right?” Nick asked, his head bowed but his eyes turned up.

“He’s gonna be fine. Don’t worry.” Johnny was a little tired of repeating that, especially when he didn’t know if it was true, but it was his job. He might have said something different if they were alone, but the last thing he was going to do was plant a seed of doubt in Murray’s head. Not after all the work he’d put in getting the guy this far. And when he wiped the blood out of the oxygen mask again, he spoke to Murray in an encouraging tone while his sharp expression told Nick not to say anything at all. But Nick wasn’t used to taking orders from strangers. Especially when it involved his friends.

“Where’s that blood coming from?” he asked, and understood the need for silence only after, when Murray’s eyes widened and he turned his head to try to ask Johnny what was going on.

“It’s probably nothing. Probably just the plaster and brick dust irritating his throat. I didn’t find any signs of chest trauma and he never complained of any pain.” Nick seemed satisfied by that. But Murray’s eyes were still fixed on him, so Johnny went over his chest again, examining his ribcage and finding it sound. “Did that hurt anywhere? Anything like stabbing or pressure?”

Murray shook his head.

“All right, then. Now I just need to look at your legs, okay? Check out your circulation.”

His pants legs were slit up the thighs, and Johnny laid his gloved hands on Murray’s shins, feeling for body heat. He expected the skin to be cool and warm quickly where he touched. But both legs were chilled, and only the left warmed noticeably in his hands. The right leg, which had sustained more damage, simply leached the warmth from his palms, making him suppress a shiver.

“Can you feel that, Murray? Do you feel me touching you?”

“Your hands are warm,” he sighed and began to cough.

“That’s good. You feel my hands right now?” he asked again, squeezing Murray’s calf gently.

This time he just got a nod.

“Good. That’s real good, Murray. Now try not to cough so much, okay? I know it’s hard, but I need you to try. Just swallow if you can and keep breathing, nice and steady.” He got on the ‘phone and called the hospital to let them know the patient was five minutes out, which seemed like forever to Nick.

But Murray closed his eyes and let it fly by. He knew when Johnny shook him and called his name, when Nick squeezed his hand and did likewise, but he was too tired to respond. He decided it was enough that he heard and understood. That was what they wanted, after all. He could confirm it to them later.

The ambulance came to a rough halt and an orderly who’d been waiting in the bay opened the rear doors. Johnny and the otherwise useless attendant leapt out and unloaded the gurney. The orderly took over for the attendant and they ran inside, making Nick race to keep up. He could hardly catch his breath, but Johnny was walking swiftly beside the gurney, rattling off information at a furious clip. Nick had thought he was in good shape, but this skinny fireman who looked no bigger than Murray was putting him in the shade.

Nick was breathing too hard to hear much of what was being said, and when the doctor pointed the way through a set of swinging doors, he was told to wait outside. He started to argue and Johnny turned around, his relentlessly positive expression suddenly tired and drawn. For the first time he actually looked like a man who had been digging through rubble for seventeen hours.

“I need to be with him,” Nick said. As if a fireman had any real authority in a hospital.

“No, you don’t. I know these doctors, sir. He’s in the best possible hands.”

“That’s what they said about you.”

Johnny smiled thinly, unable to resist praise no matter what the circumstances.

“I am, at what I do. But it’s the doctors’ turn now.”

“You were with Murray, though, right? You know what’s going on. Is he really going to be okay?”

“Look, it’s really not my place to say. I’m not a doctor.”

“But you do know _something_ , don’t you? Please, he’s one of my best friends.”

“All I can really say is that his right leg’s broken. We gave him drugs to help prevent fluid buildup in his lungs, and there wasn’t any sign of internal bleeding. You’ll have to wait and talk to the doctors.” He’d hardly finished speaking before the doors at the end of the hall burst open and Cody came flying in. Roy was right behind him, moving more slowly. He’d shed his turnout gear and was carrying the drug box, which needed to be resupplied. Johnny took advantage of the distraction Cody’s entrance provided to slip away from Nick and join his partner. Nick didn’t see him go, and when Cody asked how Murray was doing, there was no one there to answer.


	3. Something Kind of Special

Roy drove them back to the station while Johnny sat beside him, staring out the window in unaccustomed silence. He’d taken off his turnout before they got in the squad and his blue shirt was stuck to his body, stained navy with sweat. Roy would have thought he was asleep if it weren’t for the fidgety way he kept drumming his fingers on his knee.

“Something you want to talk about?” Roy asked.

“No, not really.” There was a short pause and then he went on, because Johnny Gage could no more resist an invitation to talk than he could well-deserved praise. “That guy kind of got to me, I guess.”

“Which one? The patient or the pushy friend?”

“The patient. Murray.” He turned away from the window and Roy, who knew him better than any other living soul, read the whole truth in his best friend’s shadowed face. “I’ve never had trouble separating my emotions from the job, but it was hard this time. There’s something kind of special about him.”

“Special how?”

“I don’t know. I guess the way he trusted me. They don’t usually ask smart questions or participate in their own care, you know? And I’ve never had anyone in his condition remember my name, let alone be polite.”

“Well, you have a compelling bedside manner,” Roy said, half-serious. “They almost always respond to you.”

“Yeah, they respond, but they don’t believe in me like I was a doctor or something. And I don’t usually respond to them. It was just—different.”

“To be honest, I kind of noticed that, too. I thought you were just tired.”

“Funny.” Johnny turned back to the window, but Roy could tell he wasn’t angry. He just had some things to think about that he wasn’t ready to articulate yet.

The engine crew was still at the site so they put away their equipment, showered, and went to bed. Roy fell asleep quickly, but before he did, he heard Johnny in the next bed, moving restlessly and flipping his pillow over and over. His last thought was that he would get his friend to talk about it soon. Tomorrow might be too early, but the next day was Friday and they were both off. Roy promised himself that he’d figure it out, and then sank into darkness as Johnny lay staring at the ceiling. He was still awake when the others got back, but kept his eyes closed so they wouldn’t ask why.

***

Nick and Cody sat in the waiting room for the rest of the night, drinking cup after cup of bad coffee and getting up every hour or so to ask the reception nurse if she had any word. The sun was high in the sky before a doctor came out to tell them how it went. The circulation in Murray’s right leg had been restricted, but it was quickly restored during surgery. They’d repaired the bone with plates and screws, stitched up the muscle and tissue, and put him on massive doses of a powerful IV antibiotic to fight the inevitable infection.

Murray had been able to rinse his mouth and clear his throat a little before the surgery, and he was intubated now, so they didn’t have to worry about his breathing. With any luck, the antibiotics that were preserving his leg would also protect his lungs.

His friends took this news with relief that was short-lived. It wasn’t enough to hear that he was alive and well, or as well as could be expected. Now they wanted to see it.

“It’s family only in ICU,” the doctor said, but he sounded sympathetic.

“Yes, but his family isn’t here,” Cody said. “And if he’s unconscious, we won’t bother him, right? Please, just for five minutes. Or four. Two minutes, please.”

The doctor, an older surgeon named Brackett, smiled even as he sighed.

“All right, one of you can go up for two minutes. That’s the best I can do.”

Nick and Cody looked at each other for a few seconds and then threw even/odd. It came up even and Cody won.

“I’ll try to reach his mom at O’Hare,” Nick said. “She didn’t think she’d get a flight before nine, but she was listed as standby on everything headed west.”

“I’ll tell Murray you said hi,” Cody said him, being brave. They touched hands briefly and then Cody followed Dr. Brackett to the elevator. “You really think he’ll be okay?”

“Yes, I do. If he’s able to hold off the infections, he should recover quickly. He’s young and healthy. A little underweight, maybe, but sound enough. He might be up on crutches in a week or so.”

“That’s almost a relief. But we live on a boat, and Murray’s not the most coordinated guy at the best of times.”

“If that’s the case, you might think about finding somewhere else for him to recover. It’s really a question of how much work you want to do.”

Cody was pondering the meaning of _finding somewhere else_ when the import of the doctor’s second sentence sank in. If Murray didn’t get to go home, it would be because of their unwillingness to put in the effort. He swallowed hard, his mouth suddenly dry.

“We’ll do whatever he needs,” he said quietly.

“That’s good. He’s lucky to have friends like you.”

The elevator came to a halt and they made their way through the maze of cubicles to where Murray lay silent and still. Cody touched his hand, which was loosely bound to the bed so he couldn’t pull on the respirator tube if he woke in distress. The skin was cool, his fingertips scratched and dirt driven deep under his nails. Cody imagined him buried, digging in the rubble with those slender, graceful hands—hands made to do intricate things with wires, not scrabble for survival under broken bricks—and a choking sob rose in his throat. He tried to cough but it sounded wrong, even to him.

“He’ll sleep for a few hours, at least,” Dr. Brackett said, patting him lightly on the back. “You should get some rest.”

“Yeah, I guess,” Cody sighed, grateful for the excuse to stop looking at Murray’s hands and ashamed of the fact. He suddenly wanted Nick as badly as he’d ever wanted anything. Almost as much as he wanted for Murray to have skipped this conference. Nick could have given him the strength to stay here and contemplate their failure, drawn in lines of blood on Murray’s fingers, but he could not do it alone. He bent and kissed his sleeping friend’s dirty forehead and then walked away.

“Do you know what happened to his glasses?” he asked, when they were out in the hall.

“No, I’m sorry. I didn’t know he wore glasses.”

“Yeah, he won’t be able to see a thing. That’s going to freak him out pretty bad.”

“I’ll make a note, and see that the nurses are aware.”

“Thanks. I—I really appreciate your time.”

“Just doing my job,” he said with a tired but sympathetic smile.

Cody thanked him again and went back down to the admitting area to find Nick, who had just gotten off the phone. Murray’s mother was still waiting for a seat to open up, but she was slightly reassured to know that he was out of surgery. Nick gave her the name of the motel across the street, chosen because it was nearby and the vacancy sign was lit, as a precaution while promising they’d be at the hospital when she arrived.

“His dad can’t come?” Cody asked.

“He’ll be in tomorrow. He’s in Uruguay with Melba and can’t get a flight until tonight. Poor Marta, having to travel all this way alone.”

“We’ll look after her when she gets here. It’ll be okay. And the doctor said Murray’s going to be up and around in no time.”

“Really? Man, that’s great.” He was so relieved that he didn’t see the slight reservation in Cody’s eyes, and Cody didn’t elaborate. They’d been awake for twenty-six hours and in a state of terror for most of that time. He’d let Nick sleep a little before he brought up the things that they needed to worry about next.

***

Johnny Gage didn’t sleep that morning. He lay awake until it was time to get up, and while Nick and Cody slept in the Rampart District’s Motel Six, he was performing CPR on an elderly man who’d had a heart attack while bringing in the paper. As Marta Bozinsky was boarding a plane in Chicago, Johnny was at the station washing the dishes from a meal he didn’t get to eat, and while Nick and Cody were waking to the fearful uncertainty of caring for their friend, Johnny was rescuing two children from a house where the mother had dumped a hot ashtray in the trash under the kitchen sink before leaving for work. One of them survived.

It was while he was taking off his coat outside the hospital, trying not to think about the smoke-smudged little face that would never laugh again, that he discovered Murray’s glasses in one big flap pocket. After all the rough handling his turnout had seen in the last few hours, he was surprised that the taped glasses were still in one piece. The left lens was cracked, but that had happened in the earthquake. Suddenly he could hear Murray’s soft, choked voice telling him so.

“Hey, Roy, I’m gonna run back inside a minute. I forgot to do something.”

“Need any help?” He knew, or thought he did, how much it hurt his friend to walk through fire only to find that the child in his arms was a corpse. But suddenly he was worried, filled with a nameless fear of what Johnny’s unfinished business might be.

“No, I’ll be right back.” He stuffed his coat into its compartment and latched the door. Then he was gone, bypassing the ER and heading for the elevators. Roy slid behind the wheel and waited.

Johnny was a known entity in every part of the hospital and he had no trouble getting into intensive care. A nurse pointed him toward the small room where Murray had been moved after he woke, and he peered through the window before opening the door. It looked like Murray was asleep, so he went in without knocking.

He was used to seeing people at their very worst, which was miles away from what people who didn’t eat smoke or recover the dead thought it was, so he wasn’t bothered by this. He had seen Murray’s thigh laid open, broken bone shining whitely through torn muscle, so seeing it splinted and bandaged now was no more noteworthy than clothing would have been. An injured body in this state of repair, clean and cared for in a sterile room, was almost a happy thing for Johnny. It meant he had done his job correctly and risked his life to good purpose.

Not that Murray would care about that, he thought. The patients’ fears tended to go on for a long time, long after Johnny had cleaned his equipment and moved on to another disaster. No, Murray had a long, hard road ahead of him yet, and Johnny had set him on it by saving his life. He didn’t expect to be thanked for that.

He stood there for a long time watching the skinny man sleep. Then he laid the cracked glasses on the bedside table and left the room.

***

On Friday afternoon, thirty-six hours after the completion of the hotel rescue, Johnny was drinking a beer in Roy’s backyard while steaks cooked on the grill and the two DeSoto children splashed in the pool. When he’d accepted the invitation, Johnny had thought it was going to be a proper barbecue with neighbors and co-workers, as Roy hosted during almost every off-duty weekend during the summer. But it turned out to be just the family, and that was good, too. Joanne never asked him, as the other wives and girlfriends did, when he was going to get married and settle down, and she never tried to fix him up with her friends. He didn’t know if she knew, if Roy had told her the truth, or if she was just minding her own business. Either way, it made for a relaxing day off.

The kids took breaks from swimming long enough to come and eavesdrop, wanting to hear the good details of their dad’s job, which he only discussed with his friends, but this time they were disappointed. Normally when Uncle John was around they could overhear _something_ interesting, but today it was all about a camping trip they wanted to take and a horse Johnny was thinking of buying. The rodeo hadn’t worked out, but he wanted to get back into riding and a guy on another shift had a nice Tennessee Walker he needed to sell before his wife took it in the divorce. That was a little bit interesting to the kids, who interrupted to ask if they could ride it, but Roy sent them back to the pool without an answer.

It wasn’t until much later, when Thom and Jane were in bed and Joanne was inside washing the dishes, that Roy asked him if he was ready to talk. Johnny got a fresh bottle of beer and sat down on the edge of the deck facing the sunset.

“I don’t know what to say,” he shrugged. “Maybe for the first time in my life.”

“Too bad I don’t have a camera.”

“Are you going to make fun of me or help me, Roy?”

“I want to help, I just don’t know how.” He sat beside his friend and uncapped a bottle of his own. “Tell me what to do. How can I fix this for you?”

“You can’t,” he sighed.

“No, you’re right. I can’t. But you can, Johnny. You’re not happy. You never have been. As long as I’ve known you, you’ve been searching for something. I think we both know what it is, but you won’t admit it. All the schemes and hobbies and girls, they’re all a smokescreen to hide how alone you are.”

“I’m not alone, Roy. I have you.”

“Yeah, you have me,” he agreed, laying a gentle hand on Johnny's knee. “But if that was enough, we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”

“What do you want me to do? Go to the hospital and hit on that guy? You know that’s a major ethical violation, right? It would look like—like…”

“Like you were hitting on a patient. I know. But the ethics are a little bit fuzzy here and you know it. By the time he’s ready for company, it’ll have been long enough that it won’t matter. It’ll be too late to look like you extorted him for care. And he’s a man, so no one’s going to suspect it anyway.”

“Yeah, about that. What makes you so sure he’d be interested? For all we know, he could file a major complaint and have me run out of the department on a rail.”

“Maybe,” Roy said with a shrug. “But I think you’re more careful than that. And I saw his friends. Cap says they were holding hands the whole time, and he’s pretty sure he saw them kiss more than once. Your little scientist might be taken, but I doubt he’d turn you in.”

“Okay, maybe. But—I just don’t think I’m ready for this.”

“Not ready? No, Johnny, you’re way past ready. I’ve known for years what you were doing with those women. Your ridiculous standards for looks, personality, clothes—you have a weight limit, for crying out loud. It’s all so you don’t have to go out with the same girl more than once. You have a great reputation as a heartbreaker, but the only heart you’re really breaking is your own. Now you’re forty-two years old and if you’re not careful, you’re going to be spending your retirement in my pool house. After you build it, that is. The bottom line is you’re not getting any younger, John, and I’m afraid no matter how hard you try, you’re not going to get any less gay.”

That was the first time the word had ever been spoken between them and Johnny hung his head in bewildered shame. His denial hadn’t saved him, and even now, he wondered how this had happened to him and why he couldn’t change it.

“What am I gonna do?” he whispered.

Roy squeezed his leg gently and then took his hand away. He leaned back to take a drink and wiped his mouth before speaking.

“Go to the hospital. Introduce yourself, in case he doesn’t remember your name, and tell him you just wanted to see how he was doing. That’s allowed. As for anything else—you’re a pretty perceptive guy when you want to be. Talk to him and see where it goes. If he’s into you, you’ll be able to tell. You always can when it’s some poor girl you need to get rid of.”

“Funny,” he snorted, not looking up.

“Wasn’t trying to be. You asked me how to fix it and I’m telling you. Be yourself, Johnny. Take this first step.”

“And what if he _does_ like me? What if I like him? People will find out.”

“Not necessarily. And what if they do? Your friends will stand by you.”

“You will. But the others? Too risky. You know what happened to Walters back in seventy-five. There were all those rumors, and then he was filling in with Engine 19 and they ‘lost track of him’ in that warehouse fire. I know people who were there, Roy. Guys who were on the ladder truck and heard him give his location. The Battalion Chief ordered a crew to go get him but they resisted until he stopped calling. They did that on purpose and you and I both know it. He was their brother and they let him burn to death.”

“Maybe,” Roy said, in a tone that meant _yes_. “But Walters didn’t have me.”

“You’d burn down your whole career over…?” He trailed off, still not quite knowing how to say it, his expression a mixture of hope and fear and confusion. Roy met his eyes, wondering if he’d ever felt anything painful enough to put that look on his own face. He doubted it.

“Better my _career_ than you. Tell you what—we can always go man a brush station if things don’t work out. It’d be sort of like camping.”

“Not much use for paramedics at the brush stations.”

“Well, we’re not transferring tomorrow. One step at a time, Johnny. Just like always.”

“I’ve never been this scared in my life,” he whispered, turning away.

Roy saw his shoulders start to tremble and put his arm around him. The most scared Roy had ever been was when his wife gave birth, and that was also the happiest he’d ever been. He didn’t think Johnny was feeling any joy now to temper his fear.

“You’re the bravest man I know. You can do anything, and I’ll be backing you all the way.”

Johnny nodded and managed a smile for his friend. He was brave, and he was lucky. Those things had always protected him before. Maybe they would now.

When the sun had fully set, Roy walked him to his car and said goodnight. He went in through the garage, dropping the empties into the recycling as he passed, and found Joanne on the living room sofa, staring out the window with an open book forgotten in her hands.

“Something’s wrong with Johnny,” she said quietly. “This is the quietest I’ve ever seen him.”

“He’ll be okay. He’s just working some things out.”

She put the book aside and rose, taking her husband’s arm.

“Do you think he’s ready?”

Roy gave her a long, appraising look and then shrugged.

“I hope so.”

***

Murray’s mother stayed by his side all day Thursday and Friday. He woke a few times, vaguely aware of what had happened, but not yet interested in his condition or prognosis. He was only interested in ice chips and his mother’s hand in his. Marta had them let Nick and Cody in a few times and Murray recognized them, but not much else. He couldn’t really talk yet, his throat still scratched and irritated from the brick dust, and now swollen from the vent tube, but it was all right. He was too tired to have anything to say.

His father, Mark, arrived later Friday afternoon, and that caused Murray a brief stab of fear as well as pleasure. If his father had taken time off work and come all this way, it must be serious. Murray didn’t want to be hurt that badly, and it occurred to him to ask if he was, but he always fell asleep before he could put the correct sentence together.

Saturday was the first day he was really attuned to his surroundings, able to sit up a little and drink water rather than sucking ice. One of the first things he noticed was that he had his cracked glasses, which he hadn’t seen since the firefighters first discovered him. He asked Nick where they came from, but Nick didn’t know.

“We asked the doctors and the people in admitting and they all said they didn’t know you had glasses. We figured they were lost in the hotel.”

“That paramedic took them,” Murray said. “Johnny—something. Gage. He said he’d give them back. Maybe he did.”

“You never saw him again?” Marta asked. She wasn’t sure she liked the idea of people coming and going without anyone noticing.

“I’ve been a little out of it, Mama,” he said with a weak smile. “But if it was him—I wish he’d waited until I could talk to him. I’d love to thank him for saving my life.”

“I would, too,” she whispered.

“Don’t worry about it,” Nick said. “I’m sure we can find him if you want to. We’ll be in town for a while.”

“Can you get me new glasses? Call Dr. Greene for the prescription and ask him where’s a good place to have them made here.”

“Sure thing. I’ll see it gets done today.”

Murray smiled again and closed his eyes. He was still very tired.

“You going to sleep, Boz? Want me to get Cody so you can see him for a minute?”

“Please,” he murmured. He felt Nick touch his hand and twitched his fingers in recognition. The next time he opened his eyes, Cody was there.

“They’re only letting us in two at a time,” he said, stroking the hair back from Murray’s eyes. “Your dad wants to come in, so I can’t stay. But me and Nick are going to hang around so if you want anything, if you need us, just ask. Marta, that goes for you, too. If there’s anything we can do for you, we’ll be in the waiting room.”

“Thank you,” she said, offering him a sweet smile that was so like Murray’s it made his heart ache.

“Yes, thank you,” Murray said. “I’m okay, but please, take care of my family. They’re not used to LA.”

“I know, babe. We’ll take good care of your mama.” He kissed Murray on the forehead and hugged Marta. When he looked back at the bed, Murray was asleep. He passed Mark in the doorway with a sympathetic nod and went to find Nick.

***

They stayed close to the hospital, getting things done over the phone. Dr. Greene, Murray’s optometrist in King Harbor, called a colleague in the Rampart District with the prescription and the catalog number of his frames. Murray would be mildly disappointed that they were out of stock, but the replacements were satisfactory. Nick picked them up in a cab and delivered them to Murray’s room while he slept. But his parents were still there, so at least they wouldn’t be a mystery this time.

“Do you think we ought to find that fireman for him?” Cody asked as they shared a pizza in the middle of their bed at the motel. “It might make Murray feel better, but do those guys really want to hear from people they rescue? I’d think it’d be easier on them not to get involved.”

“Yeah, probably. I don’t really know how it works, but I think I’d hate to be reminded all the time. Murray—well, he looks terrible. Not as bad as he did that night, or morning, but it has to be depressing, putting in all that work and then seeing him in the hospital like this.”

“That’s a good point. Still, it might be more depressing not to. Maybe they don’t want the last image they have of the patients to be—that.”

“Maybe,” Nick said, reaching for another slice. “Or maybe they forget about it and go on to the next job. I bet by the end of next week, they won’t even remember how many people they pulled out of there or what any of them looked like.”

“You think so? Because I know a certain soldier who remembers the names of every single guy he served with.”

“Okay, but does he remember the name of every wounded grunt he picked up and dropped off at an aid station? I doubt it.”

“Well, you’d know,” Cody muttered and used the remote to turn on the TV. He flipped over to the local news and was surprised to see a photo of Murray taking up half the screen. It was a nice one, taken at a business function if his suit was any indication, his face turned away just enough to tell his friends that he hadn’t known someone was taking his picture. “Jeez, this is still news?”

“Boz is always news in LA. They love him here. Change the channel.”

But before he could, the reporter was talking to two men and they recognized the blue shirts of the county fire department.

“Now, you’re the paramedics who rescued Dr. Bozinsky after the earthquake?”

Both of them looked vaguely uncomfortable, but one stood up straight and looked into the camera while the other kept his head down, every line and angle of his body saying clearly that he wanted to be somewhere else.

“Yes, that was us. With the help of our engine crew, and three other companies,” said the more confident of the two. “It was huge cooperative effort.”

“But you were the ones who located and treated Dr. Bozinsky.” She gave him just enough time to nod and then went on. “Did you know who he was when you went in? Did you know that you were searching for one of our country’s foremost computer scientists?”

“Um, no,” he said slowly. “Not exactly. We knew his name and that he was part of the tech conference, as were a lot of the hotel’s guests. But even if we had known, it wouldn’t have made any difference. We treat everyone just the same.”

“Working in LA, you probably meet your share of celebrities. Do they demand special attention? Did Dr. Bozinsky request anything unusual?”

“You mean did he want sparkling water in his IV?” the other snapped, surprising the reporter as well as Nick and Cody. “No, he didn’t ask for anything and he didn’t make any demands. In fact, the only thing he said that was at all unusual was that he didn’t want any of us to die for him.”

“Really? What were Dr. Bozinsky’s exact words?”

The calmer of the two cleared his throat and said that privacy policies prevented them from saying any more, and that they needed to return to work.

“Well, thank you for your time. I’m Maria Cherpov and I’ve been talking to Firefighter Paramedics Roy DeSoto and John Gage. Stay tuned for more earthquake coverage, and updates on Dr. Murray Bozinsky as they occur.”

“That’s the guy,” Nick said as the scene returned to the newsroom. “The fireman from the ambulance, Gage.”

“Was he that hostile?” Cody asked, changing the channel again. A M*A*S*H rerun was on and he turned down the volume.

“Not that I saw. He was real nice to Murray.”

“Huh. Maybe he’s not hostile so much as—defensive. I kind of get the idea he didn’t like her implying that Murray might have asked for special treatment.”

“Yeah, I got that, too,” Nick mused. “Do you think he’s like that about everyone, or is Murray special after all?”

“Maybe we ought to go see him and pass along our thanks. I don’t know if being reminded depresses them, but he seems to have strong feelings on the subject.”

***

They didn’t mention the news coverage to Murray, though he asked several times if they’d located the men he wanted to see. What they did tell him was the truth, that they’d found the right station house but been unable to catch the specific crew. On two occasions they found other shifts, once the engine crew was there but the paramedics were on a run, and once the house was deserted. Those four trips were all they had time for during the week they spent in Carson. Most of their days were spent at the hospital, sitting with Murray after he was moved to a room on the ward, or helping the elder Bozinsky’s manage their business. Melba flew in for two days, all she could spend away from the dig without endangering her grant, and she added more to their responsibilities than she relieved.

Johnny had come by twice on his days off, but both times he went away without making it all the way to Murray’s room. The risks were just too great. Roy reasoned and cajoled, but to no avail. He just couldn’t do it, and the more he thought about it, the more snappish and depressed he became.

When the papers reported that Dr. Bozinsky had been released from the hospital and was heading home to King Harbor to complete his recovery, Johnny stopped snapping and settled into a depression so thorough that even Chet Kelly was unable to mock it. He did his job, spoke kindly and reassuringly to the patients as he always had, and kept to himself the rest of the time. Everyone turned to Roy for answers, but for the first time in their long friendship, Roy had none to give. All he could say was that it was personal and Johnny had to work it out for himself. And even that was said only to the captain, who had to know if his men were fit for duty. Roy said he believed that Johnny was, and the matter was dropped.

But when Roy requested time off for both of them three weeks after the hotel rescue, Hank Stanley was only too glad to approve it. Someone who didn’t know him very well might have thought he wanted his top men to go away, and a few people who did know him wondered. There was speculation going around that Johnny might be sick or in some sort of serious trouble—the possibility of it involving a young girl was whispered—and when the gossips heard he was taking a vacation, it was assumed he would come back recovered or not at all.


	4. Gone Fishing

Nick rented a station wagon to drive Murray and his parents back to King Harbor in comfort while Cody drove his recovered Jimmy. He’d parked illegally in the rush to find Murray and the car was towed the next day in the midst of the general cleanup. It had taken three days and numerous phone calls to find out where it was being stored, and Cody was relieved to have it back again.

But the important thing was that Murray was going home. His lungs were clear and his wounds free from infection. The plan was to put him in the aft cabin so he wouldn’t have to go up and down stairs to get to the head, and his friends would move in whatever equipment he needed to keep busy for a few weeks. It wasn’t a perfect plan—he would get bored and want to go outside, which they didn’t want to risk too often—but it was the best they could do. The only real alternative was to send him to a rehab facility and Murray had been adamant that he’d much rather live below deck at home than go to another institution, no matter how nice.

Cody, a little bit drunk with the sheer joy of going home, as well as driving his own car, went a little crazy on the open road and beat them back to the pier by a good margin. He had time to start rearranging the boat, changing the sheets on their bed and carrying in some of Murray’s books so maybe he wouldn’t try to go to work right away. It would be better for him to rest, and he might do that if only novels were within reach.

When Cody went up on deck to look for them, he saw Nick carrying Murray down the gangway and waited at the rail for the fragile burden to be handed across.

“Hi, Cody,” Murray said, sounding sleepy and slightly stoned. “Did you have a good drive?”

“It was great. You want to go to bed now? I have it all fixed up for you.”

“Yes, please,” he giggled. “It was such a long trip, and the boat’s rocking…You won’t drop me, will you?”

“No, Boz. I won’t drop you.” He descended the aft stairs with more care than ever before, making sure he didn’t bump Murray’s extended leg against the walls.

“I’m really sorry about putting you out of your room.”

“Don’t be,” Cody said, laying him on the bed. “It’s worth it to have you home where you belong. And Nick and I are going to take turns sleeping down here with you so you won’t be alone.”

“Oh, no, you don’t have to do that. You’ve both spent so much time looking after me—you haven’t been alone together at all, have you?”

“Sure we have, at night while your mom was with you. And we’ll be sure to sneak off during the day, if it’ll make you feel better.”

“You’re so generous,” he yawned, curling his fists into the blankets like a child. Cody took his glasses and put them on the bedside table next to the books. When Marta and Mark came down, Cody went up to help Nick get the rest of Murray’s things from the car. He never could spend any time in the hospital without accumulating a sack of cards and gifts, and he never threw them away until he’d responded to each one. His friends weren’t sure he knew how much more there was this time, given the wide publicity the earthquake had garnered, but they could worry about it later. Right now, they weren’t talking about that part because Murray was so unhappy over receiving so much attention when so many others were suffering, too.

Now he slept peacefully with his mother by his side, planning to do good works when he was on his feet again. He consoled himself with the idea that by the time he was able to help, everyone else would have lost interest. There would be a greater need then.

Mark went home two days later, unable to take any more time away from work, while Marta got a room at Straightaway’s and stayed another week. She wasn’t satisfied until Murray was restless and bored and his friends less tolerant of his complaints. Murray’s willfulness, and Nick and Cody’s impatience, were the clearest signs that he was well on the way to recovery. They never took off the kid gloves until they were sure he was ready.

***

“Come on, Roy, where are we going?”

“I told you, we’re going fishing.”

Johnny stopped pouting out the window and began pouting at his friend instead. He hated not knowing the destination almost as much as he hated letting Roy drive his Range Rover. He hadn’t even known they were going anywhere until yesterday afternoon when Roy told him their days off were going to extend into an actual vacation. All he’d been able to get out of him since then was that they were going fishing. He hadn’t been asked if he wanted to go anywhere, or even if he wanted to use his vacation time, but he decided not to argue. If he went along, he could have a lousy time and complain endlessly. That might make it worthwhile.

“Why aren’t we going up to the mountains? We always do that.”

“We’re going deep sea fishing, that’s why.”

“Deep sea fishing? Where the hell did you get a boat?”

“Just wait and see.”

“Damn it, Roy, I don’t want to—”

“What? You don’t want to go fishing? You don’t want to see where we’re going? What do you have to do that’s so important you can’t humor me?”

“Why can’t you just tell me where we’re—did that sign say Redondo? That’s your big vacation idea? Redondo Beach?”

“Why not? They have great fishing just outside the harbor. Come on, Johnny. You follow me into burning buildings. You can trust me on a vacation.”

“When I go into a fire, I know what to expect.”

“You just love to complain, don’t you? Well, fine. If that’s what it takes for you to enjoy yourself, bitch away,” he said cheerfully, consulting a hand drawn map.

Johnny turned back to the window and fidgeted with his rolled-up shirtsleeves. He didn’t want to fish and he didn’t want to go to Redondo Beach. In fact, the only reason he was here at all was the belief that if he let Roy take him away somewhere, he would have only Roy to deal with. He was tired of the questions and the strange looks he got at work and from his neighbors. It seemed like everyone he knew was interested in his problems and he didn’t have a single one that he could explain. Roy was his only source of peace anymore, the one person who knew his secrets and so didn’t have to ask.

Sometimes he caught himself thinking that his life might be easier if Roy was like him, if they could be together all the time, in every way, but that wasn’t the answer. He couldn’t solve his problem by wishing it on his best friend. And besides, Joanne and the kids helped shield him from the world. He was the cool bachelor uncle, and their acceptance of him was protection against almost any accusation. He knew he wouldn’t have lasted this long without a Normal Family Seal of Approval, but what was worse was that he didn’t realize that was wrong.

“What’s the matter, Johnny? Nothing left to complain about?”

“Ha ha,” he muttered, and then turned away from the window again. “I’m just wondering what your plan is. You really want to fish for a week? And where’d you even get a boat?”

“You know what you’re real problem is, John? You worry too much. One step at a time, remember?”

“Shit,” he hissed under his breath. Then suddenly he could see the ocean. Whatever was going to happen would happen soon.

“Have faith,” Roy said, and he did. It was the only thing holding him together.

They parked a block from the pier and Roy consulted his directions again. Then he folded the paper and put it in his pocket, smiling confidently.

“I don’t know who told you what,” Johnny said, “but this doesn’t look like a rental type place. Maybe down there…”

“No, we’re going this way. Trust me.”

So Johnny shrugged and followed him across the street and down the gangway to the pier. But he was sure he was right when he got a closer look at the boats. They were mostly live-aboards with people going about their daily lives, casting curious glances at the strangers in their neighborhood.

“Roy, this can’t be right. Unless you have a friend with a boat that I don’t know about, we’re in the wrong place.”

“No, this is right.” He walked boldly to a small yacht where a vaguely familiar blond man was sitting on deck looking at a magazine. The blond man heard them coming and raised his eyes, then smiled. Johnny followed, unable to determine if the man knew them or if he was just naturally friendly. But either way, he put down the magazine and met them at the rail.

“Are you Mr. Allen?” Roy asked, grabbing Johnny’s wrist as sudden recognition flooded him. “My name’s Roy DeSoto, and this—”

“I know who you are,” Cody said with a friendly grin. “Roy DeSoto and John Gage. I saw you on the news.”

“Really? Then you know why we’re here. I’m sorry to barge in unannounced, and if it’s not a good time, we’ll go. But we’ve been thinking a lot about Dr. Bozinsky and since we were in the neighborhood, we thought we’d drop by and see how he’s doing.”

“That’s great. It’s no trouble at all. Murray loves company, and it’s been kind of hard on him not being able to get out and work cases with us. He’ll be thrilled to see you. Come aboard, please. Nick’s helping him get dressed, but it won’t be another minute.”

Roy stepped on deck, half dragging Johnny, who was furiously embarrassed and wanted nothing at all to do with this farce. _Happened to be in the neighborhood?_ He didn’t think this Cody Allen bought that line, and he was sure Murray wouldn’t. Not to mention that if he _had_ to talk to the guy he’d been thinking about non-stop these last three weeks, he didn’t want it to be in front of all these people.

Cody took an instant liking to Roy, but he wasn’t so sure about John. He had that same fierce expression that he’d worn while being interviewed on TV and Cody wondered now if it was his natural state. Maybe the kindness he showed Murray was the aberration. Cody didn’t know what to think of that, but he welcomed them both aboard and offered them coffee, leaving them to drink it in the salon while he went to tell Murray they had company.

Nick had just finished dressing Murray in his shorts and t-shirt and was changing the bed while Murray sat in one of the rattan chairs brought down from the salon. He was spending more time out of bed now, but still didn’t go above deck much. It was hot and too many people wanted to take his picture. In a few weeks, when he had the splint off his leg and was walking around again, they would all forget. In the meantime, he was content to stay below and read or work on his programming. The stern cabin was beginning to take on the appearance of his office, only more crowded and with fewer components. But he had enough to get his important work done, slouched down in the cushioned chair with a low table over his lap.

He wasn’t working when Cody came in, though. He was watching Nick change the sheets and telling him about a dream he’d had last night about the earthquake. In the dream, the hotel didn’t collapse. It just went on shaking eternally, keeping him off balance, and when he reached the door, it was locked and he couldn’t leave. He’d woken to the rocking off the boat, but the sunlight and the sight of Nick by his side had kept him from panicking. It was evident from his tone that he was proud of this, and Nick was, too. Or, more correctly, he was grateful. Murray had screamed them all awake too many times since coming home and finding how closely the waves resembled the moving earth. It was something he’d probably known academically all his life, but now that his emotions were involved, it took on a whole different meaning.

Now he interrupted himself and turned his cheerfully proud smile on Cody.

“Did I hear voices? Do we have company?”

“You do. Those firemen from the hotel are here. You want to come up, or should they come down here?”

“There were a lot of guys at the hotel,” Nick said reasonably. “How many are we talking about here?”

“Just two. The paramedics we saw on the news. You wanted to see them, didn’t you, Murray?”

“Yes,” he said quickly. But his expression was clouded with doubt. He didn’t want them ( _him_ ) to see him carried up the stairs like an invalid. “But maybe down here is better. My leg’s awfully sore today, and—and I’m kind of dizzy. Nick, will you help me back into bed?”

“Sure. And, look, if you’re not up to it, just say so. They’ll understand.”

“No, I am. I just want to lie down.”

Nick hurried to finish making the bed and helped Murray up, supporting him so he could hop over to the bed on his good left leg. He sat up against the hull, the blanket covering his legs, and tried to look peaceful.

“Okay?” Cody asked, and he nodded bravely. But he wasn’t really prepared for both of his friends to leave, and was a little flustered when the paramedics came down alone.

“Good morning, Dr. Bozinsky,” Roy said cheerfully. “You look good. Do you remember us?”

“Oh, yes,” he said, leaning forward expectantly in lieu of rising. “Roy and John, right? You saved my life. I—I wanted to thank you. My friends tried to reach you a few times while I was in the hospital but they kept missing you.”

“We heard,” Roy said. “I’m sorry we didn’t get a chance to come by sooner, but you know how it is. There’s always more work after a natural disaster.”

“Well, I hadn’t thought about it, but I imagine there would be. Was there a lot of damage? The guys wouldn’t let me watch much about it on TV. They thought it would upset me. I felt really bad about getting so much attention, though. Were there a lot of injuries?”

“Some. Not a lot as serious as yours. It wasn’t a bad enough quake to knock down any of the more modern buildings. You’re sort of the big story to come out of it.”

“Oh.” Murray seemed to think about that for a moment, his gaze shifting from Roy to Johnny and back again. Then he asked, “Because I was the biggest rescue, or because I was already famous?”

“Probably a little of both. But no one died because we were with you.”

He nodded, still smiling, but a little uncertainly now. He kept looking at Johnny, hoping he would speak. Or at least smile. Instead, he looked confused and vaguely angry, and Murray was afraid it was directed at him.

“That—that’s good. I’m glad,” he said hesitantly, trying to meet both sets of eyes at once.

“Good,” Roy said with a tone of great satisfaction. He moved the chair closer to the bed, grabbed Johnny by the shoulders and steered him into it. “Now, I think you two have some things to talk about, so I’m going to go up and have another cup of coffee.” Roy was as good as his word and before either could argue, they were alone.

“You—um—we have something to talk about?” Murray asked nervously, pushing his glasses up with one hand.

Johnny leaned forward, his elbows on his knees, and heaved a great sigh.

“Is—did I do something wrong?”

“No,” Johnny said, almost snapping. Then his face softened and he sighed again. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know Roy was bringing me here. I wanted to talk to you, but I’m not really prepared.”

“Oh.” Murray thought about that for a moment and decided that the best recourse was to fall back on simple manners. “Well, I’m glad he did anyway. I wanted to tell you how much I appreciate the way you looked after me. Both of you, of course, but you especially… I feel a little bit silly now about needing someone to hold my hand, but when I remember how scared I was—well, you probably see it every day, but it was new for me. I also wanted to say that I’m sorry if it was actually weird. Maybe you _don’t_ see it every day and I was just being childish.”

“No, you weren’t being childish,” he said quietly. “And I was glad to do it.” He flicked his eyes up at Murray and as swiftly away, and in that glance was a whole world of pain. But it was pain that Murray understood. He’d seen it on his own face every day for years.

“Johnny, how can I help?”

“You can’t. Never mind. This was a stupid idea—there’s nothing anyone can do.” He started to rise and Murray reached out impulsively, as if he could stop him. His hand grazed Johnny’s thigh and they both froze.

“You felt it, didn’t you?” Murray whispered. “At the hotel. It wasn’t just professional, was it?”

Johnny sat down abruptly, all his strength gone. He tried twice to speak but couldn’t get the words out. He wasn’t even sure what the words should be.

“Unless I’m mistaken and I’ve just outed myself. You won’t tell anyone will you?” Murray was only half-serious, feeling certain he had a handle on this situation now.

“You—you can admit it?”

“In private, to some people. And with some people, I don’t have to. You knew, didn’t you?”

“I was afraid it was wishful thinking. I—I’ve never told anyone. Even Roy just kind of figured it out.”

“Really? If you’ve never told anyone, how do you—who do you—go out with?”

“I go out with women, when I can find one who meets my impossible standards. And then I get rid of them as soon as possible. I’m a fake, Murray. My whole life is a fraud.”

“No it isn’t. You’re still a hero. You still save lives, even if no one knows who you want to sleep with.”

“I guess. I just—I hate lying, you know? I hate going out with those girls, telling lies about them to prop up my reputation. Which stinks, by the way. I have to pretend to be a womanizer to hide the fact that I haven’t really been with anyone in years.”

“When was the last time you were with a man?” Murray asked gently.

“I never have been. I grew up on an Indian reservation in North Dakota and they were pretty intolerant of that kind of thing. I came out here when I was sixteen to live with an uncle and finish high school. I thought it would be better in California, but it wasn’t. I played basketball and the jocks were all a bunch of rednecks and homophobes. It was just like back home. And the department’s as bad, or worse. Somehow I never broke out of the macho role. I never figured out how to even meet anyone.”

“That’s so sad,” Murray said and blushed at his sharp look. “Well, the reservation sounds fascinating. I’d love to hear more about that sometime. But the rest—that’s where I was lucky, I guess. Being an uncoordinated four-eyed geek, no one expected much of me. Even in the Army, I attracted my own kind.”

“You were in the Army?”

“Special Weapons Development,” he said modestly. “I never served in the field. But I don’t want to talk about me. Don’t you meet people at work?”

“Sure, but I can’t—it’s too hard. There are always other people around, other firefighters, so it’s not safe. And it’s not really ethical, either. We’re not supposed to get involved with patients. It could look like we—like I was taking advantage of my position.”

“I can see that. But what do you mean, it’s not safe?”

“Like I said, the department’s all about the macho image. Some of the older guys, the ones who’ve been in since the fifties, they won’t even carry air tanks into fires. It’s crazy. And there have been incidents involving guys believed to be—queer. They don’t always get the support they need and sometimes they die. It’s always an accident, but I’m pretty sure it’s not.”

“So it’s like the police?”

“Yeah, I think so. I’m lucky, I have Roy to look out for me, but if someone was vindictive enough, they could lose two of us just as easy as one. So you see why I never took the chance.”

“Until now.”

“Until now. I don’t know what it was. Something in the way you looked at me, or maybe the way your friends were holding hands like it didn’t matter. I—I want that. Maybe not in public, but I want someone to hold hands with who isn’t doing it because he thinks he’s dying. And I thought that, you know, you might want that, too.” He raised his head and gave Murray his first glimpse of the crooked grin that had charmed so very many unattainable men and unwanted women since he was thirteen years old.

“Is it because you like me, or because I’m safe? Because I’m really a huge geek. I can’t go out in the sun for more than ten minutes or I’ll burn, and I spend most of my time down here, hunched over a computer. And I talk way too much. Everyone says so.”

“Really? Everyone tells me that, too.” His smile turned self-deprecating and became even more charming. “And you’re a private detective, right? That’s got to be interesting.”

“Oh, it is!” he said excitedly. “We go on stakeouts and have car chases—it’s very exciting. I’ve been kidnapped and tortured, and once my former commanding officer tried to sell me to the Russians. Although that was more of a tragedy in the end,” he added, remembering Bradley Stivers.

“Really? He tried to _sell_ you?”

“I’d be hacking Pentagon computers from the Kremlin right now if Nick and Cody hadn’t figured it out and rescued me. I seem to need rescuing a lot. So that makes us more compatible, right?”

“Maybe,” he said, with a smile that said _oh, yes_. “But you’d have to at least try some of the things I like. Some sunscreen and a long sleeved shirt and we could go camping.”

“I like camping a lot. But there’s usually hiking, and I’m not so good at that. I mean, I can find cliffs to fall off of that aren’t even on any maps.”

“We can figure it out. If you want to, that is. I never actually asked…”

“No, I do. I’d love to spend time with you, get to know you better. I don’t have much in common with Nick and Cody but they’re my best friends. Our differences make us a stronger team. Maybe you and I could be a team like that.”

“I’d like to try,” Johnny said, flashing that grin again. Murray held out his hand again and this time Johnny took it. He moved to the edge of the bed and Murray leaned happily into his arms.

For a second John’s back stiffened and then he was hugging Murray tight. He had never openly held another man, at least not outside of work, and it was quite possibly the sweetest moment of his life. Just to press his body to one that attracted him and know that the attraction was mutual was a major event. He didn’t know what actually making love to a man might entail, but he was sure that this was the right one to show him. This sweet, skinny man with the soft puppy-dog eyes, expressive hands and wide, lip-biting smile was about the most harmless person he could imagine, but those eyes were also alive with intelligence and his hands obviously skilled in many things. He could submit to Murray without giving up control, so he wouldn’t have to be afraid.

“Did I even remember to ask how you’re doing?” he said suddenly, pulling away. “Your friends said you weren’t leaving the cabin much. How’s your leg healing?”

“I saw my doctor yesterday and he took x-rays. He says it’s fine. It only hurts when I use the crutches. I have trouble keeping my toes from catching on the carpet.”

“Ouch, I bet. I broke my leg a few years ago and it was miserable. I didn’t have one of these neat modern splints, though. I had to wear a plaster cast and it itched like a bastard.”

“The splint itches, too. Sometimes I unfasten it so I can scratch. It feels _so_ good. You won’t tell the guys, right?”

“Your secrets are safe with me,” Johnny laughed. “But I’ll help you up the stairs if you want.”

“Maybe later. Right now I think I’d rather stay here and talk to you.”

“Yeah, I’d like that, too. But—uh—we _are_ going to have sex at some point, right?”

“Oh, yes, of course,” Murray giggled, his bright eyes dancing. “My doctor said after I get the splint off in four or five weeks, I can do whatever I want. But there are things we can do before then, too, and it’s probably a good idea to start slow.”

“I think you’re right. I’ve waited my whole life—what’s a few more weeks?”

“Days,” Murray corrected, touching his neck lightly. “You don’t live very far away, right?”

“About a half hour in regular traffic, I guess.”

“Then come over when you can. We’ll get to know each other. Slowly.”

Johnny ducked his head and came up smiling, somewhere between sweet and hungry. Murray slid his hand up Johnny’s neck and into his hair, winding thick strands around his fingers. For a moment they just sat there looking at each other. Then Murray’s grip tightened subtly, pulling him in, and they were kissing, hesitant and soft. It was Johnny’s instinct to lean in and dominate, but Murray didn’t feel the same as the women he was accustomed to dominating.

None of this felt the same. Murray’s lips were thinner, stronger, his movements more confident, and when Johnny raised his hands to Murray’s face, the broad planes of his cheekbones and the sharp angle of his jaw were so foreign he had to open his eyes. But the greatest difference was the welling of emotion in his chest when he saw how Murray was looking at him. He knew adoration when he saw it, but until now it had always filled him with dread and fear. Now it was a joyful thing, to be kissing someone that he wanted to kiss, someone whose adoration he wouldn’t have to flee.

Johnny only broke the kiss when he needed to breathe. Murray’s eyes were still dancing, laughing with pleasure as his fingers worked deeper into the shaggy hair. He pulled Johnny’s head down onto his shoulder and held him as he gasped for breath.

“That wasn’t a first, was it?”

“Yeah, I think it was. Murray, I—I can trust you, right?”

“I promised I wouldn’t out you, didn’t I? If I didn’t, I promise now.”

Johnny shivered and Murray stroked his face tenderly.

“I know that,” he whispered. “But I’ve never even been in a relationship before and I hardly know you…”

“Don’t worry about me. I’m probably the safest guy in the world, Johnny Gage. You’re the one I need to worry about.”

“Me? Why’s that?” He shifted his head slightly and kissed Murray’s throat, unreasonably pleased by his answering moan.

“Because you’re beautiful. And strong and heroic. And I bet everyone you meet, everyone you _save_ , falls in love with you just like I did. Once you start to figure out the relationship thing, after you get comfortable being with me, you’ll want to explore. It’s natural, and you’ll be right. You can do better.”

Johnny kissed his throat again, then raised his head and kissed him on the mouth.

“So in your mind it’s over before it starts?”

“I’ve done this before. Don’t get me wrong—I want to do it again,” he added with a shy giggle. “I just know that you’re probably going to be ready to move on before I am.”

“And that’s okay?”

Murray ran his hand over Johnny’s shoulder and down one muscular arm before curling it around his waist.

“Well, I _am_ a scientist, so I know that improbable things do happen. And I hate to miss opportunities to be with people I like. We’ll have fun, anyway, and the only thing I ask is honesty. No sneaking around, okay?”

“I wouldn’t do that,” he said, pretending to be offended.

“Johnny, that’s all you’ve _ever_ done. I’m guessing you’re not the deeply introspective type, right? Not exactly a student of human behavior?”

“That’s not true,” he protested. “I find people fascinating. I just can’t get very close to them. Maybe that’s why I’m so interested.”

“Maybe. But you’re going to get close to me, so I’ll just tell you. You’ve spent your whole life lying and hiding your personal feelings. So if things get difficult between us, if we have a fight or you just realize you want someone else, your first impulse will almost certainly be to lie and hide it from me. But I’ll know, and it’ll hurt a lot more than whatever you’re trying to hide, okay? You took all my pain away the day we met. Don’t hurt me now.”

“I won’t, Murray. I promise.”

“Okay. I believe you. And that’s always going to be an advantage that you have over me. I’ll always believe you.” He took Johnny’s hand and laid it on his injured thigh.

“You’re gonna make me fall in love,” Johnny grinned. He pulled back the blanket, exposing Murray’s skinny legs to the knee. The right, nearest him, was encased in a heavy splint. The left was bare beneath the hem of his plaid shorts, his thigh bisected by a wide surgical scar and nearly encircled with a web of narrower pink lines. It had taken hundreds of stitches to close them all, but only one area was torn badly enough to need major repairs. Unlike his right, which would be a writhing snake-pit of scar tissue and possibly prevent his ever wearing shorts in public again. Johnny caressed the unbandaged leg, tracing his fingertips over the roadmap of pain it described. “You were so brave. My first thought when I saw you there, all skinny and fragile, wearing those taped glasses, was _This guy can’t take it. He’s gonna scream every time we touch him._ But you didn’t. I never saw anything like it.”

“You said I’d be okay,” Murray reminded him. “I believed you and you were right. But I did scream a couple times, didn’t I?”

“Once or twice, maybe. And they train us to say that, no matter what. I’ve said it to a lot of people who died while I was lying to them.”

“Did you believe it when you said it to me?”

Johnny went on stroking his thigh, tickling the sensitive skin, while he appeared to think it over.

“Yeah, I did,” he said at last. “I was scared, but I knew you’d make it if you believed you could.”

Murray lifted the hand that touched him so sweetly and kissed the calloused palm.

“I believed it because you said it. Proof of the self-fulfilling prophesy.”

“I’m gonna learn so much from you,” Johnny grinned and pulled him close, kissing him with a gentle possessiveness that made any more words unnecessary.

***

“You were taking an awfully big risk,” Cody said when Roy finished explaining the reason for their visit.

“I know. But he’s my best friend and he’s really been hurting. I knew there was a good chance Murray was gay, and Johnny’s pretty irresistible. But even if he’s taken, and I did consider that, I hoped you all could still help. He’s never really had anyone to talk to—that he could really relate to—about this. If all Murray can do is make him feel a little less alone, that would be a huge first step.”

“That shouldn’t be a problem,” Nick said dryly. “Murray isn’t taken, and Johnny _is_ irresistible. I imagine they’re having a pretty good time.”

“In our bed? Not that good a time. But later? I can see it,” Cody said with a smile. “Providing Johnny isn’t the fast and loose heartbreaker everyone says he is.”

“You asked around? Right, I forgot. Private detectives.” He sipped his coffee while they waited for him to rush to his partner’s defense. But his honesty was more useful. “I don’t know how he’s going to behave now. This is a side of Johnny that I’m not real familiar with. But the fast and loose heartbreaker has always been an act, so far as I know. Chasing girls makes him look good for the guys at work, and dumping them after one or two dates keeps him from having to get too involved. And for some reason it also impresses the guys.”

“Well, it won’t impress Murray. He’s kind of old-fashioned when it comes to relationships. He’s had a few casual boyfriends since we’ve known him, but he’s only really been in love three or four times and they hurt him pretty badly. Nick, you remember that guy, Adrian?”

“I don’t think we need to talk about Adrian,” Nick said, and that told Roy everything he needed to know about it. “The point is, Murray met Johnny when he was in about the worst crisis of his life and it’s natural that he’d get—attached. So if Johnny betrayed him now, if he let Murray fall in love and then changed his mind, that’d be pretty bad. We wouldn’t take it very well, either.”

“No one wants that,” Roy agreed. “But I think it’s best left between them. Johnny’s a good guy with a big heart. He just hasn’t had anyone to share it with, besides my family.”

“You have a family?”

“A wife and four kids. Only the two little ones are still at home. My oldest son is married and my oldest daughter’s away at college.”

“That’s great,” Cody said, almost wistfully. “How old are the little ones?”

“Six and eight. When the first two hit junior high, my wife suddenly wanted more. And Johnny, he’s family, too. The kids adore him, he’s one of Joanne’s best friends—he’s spent every birthday and holiday with us since nineteen seventy-two. He has a huge heart and if someone really loved him, someone he could be honest with, I think it could be great for both of them.”

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” Cody reminded them. “We don’t know what’s going on down there. Murray might not be as appealing when he isn’t in need, and Johnny might not be quite as charming without the uniform.”

“Maybe,” Roy shrugged. “We’ll just have to wait and see. But whatever happens, I really appreciate you taking the time to humor us. I didn’t know what I was going to do with him if you guys couldn’t help.”

“Well, you did save Murray’s life,” Cody said. “We can’t ever repay you for that.”

“No need to. And if there was, sharing your Saturday with us would cover it.”

“At least have another cup of coffee,” Nick said, already rising to get the pot. “Looks like they’re gonna be down there for a while.”

***

The time for Murray’s medication came and went while they were talking and he realized it only when the dull ache in his thigh became a sharp, stabbing pain. It seemed to happen all at once, from an undercurrent of mild soreness to a frightening bolt of agony that shot down to his knee and up past his hip. He interrupted his own words with a gasp and just like that, Johnny was back on the job.

“What is it, Murray? What’s going on?”

“What time is it?”

He checked his watch out of habit, always needing to have the exact correct time when something was wrong.

“Ten past twelve,” he said, taking Murray’s wrist and counting his pulse. It was fast, but strong and steady. “Forget your medication? Where is it?”

“On the dresser,” Murray panted, gesturing toward that general side of the room. “The antibiotic and the morphine. The other one’s only twice a day.”

Johnny read all the labels carefully, making certain he got it right, and carried the two pills back to the bed. A glass of water stood on the little table and Murray drank it even though it was flat.

“Thank you. I—I’m sorry about that, Johnny. It’s much better, but it flares up on me sometimes.”

“Don’t apologize for that. You’ve been moving around too much, is the problem, and that’s my fault. Here, lie back.” He helped Murray to lie down flat on his back and shifted his legs carefully into alignment.

“What are we doing?” Murray asked nervously.

“Gonna start questioning me now? You had more faith when I was sticking you with needles.”

“I still have faith. And I seem to remember having questions then, too.”

“Yeah, you did. I was a complete professional, but that kind of turned me on.” He unfastened the brace and laid it open, exposing Murray’s wounded leg. The bandages around his thigh were mostly to protect the newly healed flesh from rubbing against the plastic and opening up again. “Does the skin hurt? Or the muscle?”

“The muscle, mostly. Down deep, next to the bone.”

“So it doesn’t hurt when I do this?” he asked, pressing with his fingertips around the outer thigh where he knew the worst injury had been.

“Yes. No. I mean, yes, it hurts, but in a good way.”

“Yeah? You want me to do this for a while?”

“Well, if—if you want to. It feels really—good.”

“Okay. Just don’t move until we’re done, all right? I don’t need any trouble with your doctors.”

“What’s one more secret?” Murray laughed, and it turned into a soft groan of pleasure as Johnny massaged his leg with both hands.

“That’s what I thought. The doc didn’t tell your friends to do it for you?”

“He told me, but I didn’t really feel comfortable asking them. They’re so afraid of hurting me, they don’t have much confidence in—in—gosh, that’s nice.”

“Too nice to do with someone who’s just a friend?”

“Yes, I think so,” Murray said, blushing helplessly. He managed not to move his legs, but he couldn’t prevent the partial erection that swelled lazily at the proximity of those hands. Johnny noticed, there was no way he could not, and discovering how easy it was to arouse his future lover was sweet power. He didn’t know when it would be for real, but he knew now how it would start, what he wanted to do when the time was right.

“Are you going to sleep?” he teased.

“I don’t want to. In fact, I’m kind of hungry. Maybe you could check with the guys and see if there’s lunch?”

“I could do that, or we could both go up and you could get some sun. You should get out of here once in a while.”

“The stairs scare me,” he said, blushing darker.

“Your friends help you, don’t they?”

“Yes, of course, but it’s still scary. I—I’m so afraid of being dropped.”

“I know that feeling, believe me. Even with safety lines, hanging off a building isn’t that much fun.”

“More fun than being carried out of a burning building, I bet.”

“Depends on who’s doing the carrying,” he said with a naughty smirk. “Let me take you out on deck. You could use the sun.”

“If you really want to. I still believe in you.”

“Good. Because I won’t ever let you get hurt.” He fastened the brace and helped Murray sit up on the edge of the bed.

“Are you sure you’re big enough?” Murray asked doubtfully. “No offense, but I think I’m taller than you, and it’s not easy for Nick or Cody…”

“You’re kidding right? I could carry you _and_ a roll of hose up ten flights of stairs if I had to. Give me your glasses.”

Murray surrendered them, his eyebrows arched in disbelief. Johnny placed them carefully in his left breast pocket and crouched down by the bed. Before Murray could ask what he was doing, Johnny bent and set his right shoulder firmly into the flat plane of his narrow pelvis. He rose in one swift, fluid motion, his right arm wrapped around Murray’s knees and holding his bony hip with his left hand.

“Does that hurt?”

“No. But the blood’s rushing to my head.”

“It won’t be for long. Hold on.”

Murray took his words literally and gripped his belt loops, holding on tight as Johnny carried him up the stairs. Nick and Cody were shocked, both of them half-standing in case they needed to run and help, but Roy wasn’t surprised at all. In fact, he’d expected nothing less.

“Not all the way outside,” Murray said breathlessly. “We don’t want—everyone—to see—this.”

“This far enough?” The maneuver he completed next was a little more than Murray could follow. He was conscious mostly of the arm that held his legs straight and the hand that somehow landed on the back of his neck. Then he was lying flat on the bench across from his friends, breathing hard but pleased by how easy it was. Johnny sank down on the floor beside him, his elbow propped up next to Murray’s hip, and took his hand. They were both fidgeting, rubbing the backs of each other’s hands with their thumbs, and Murray reached awkwardly with his left hand to take his glasses back. When he could focus, his friends’ expressions made him laugh.

“What did we miss?” he asked.

“Not much,” Cody grinned. “We were just discussing what Roy and Johnny are doing for the rest of the week. They took a week off to go fishing, so they can’t really go home.”

“Yeah, why _did_ we take a whole week?” Johnny asked.

“In case it didn’t go that well, we’d be able to actually go fishing. I didn’t want you to have to go back to work the day after you got shot down by this stud.”

“You didn’t have a lot of faith in my charm, did you?”

“Let’s just say I’ve seen you get shot down a lot.” But he was teasing, and more gently than he usually did.

“So what was the plan if I didn’t get shot down?”

“That’s kind of open ended. I wanted you to have options.”

“We should go fishing, then,” Cody said. “We don’t have any work lined up—we didn’t want to have to leave Murray—but we can live out there as easy as we can here.”

“Can we really?” Nick asked worriedly. “What if Murray needs something and we’re out in the middle of the ocean?”

Johnny looked up at Roy and they both shrugged. Then Johnny spoke.

“The only problems he’s likely to have will either be minor enough that we can get back in plenty of time, or so serious that it won’t matter.”

“What—what’s going to happen that’s that serious?” Murray asked in a small voice.

“Nothing,” Johnny said, squeezing his hand.

“But—but you said—”

“You can sure tell it’s his first day,” Nick said to Cody.

“He’ll learn,” Cody answered, hoping it was true. He almost pitied Johnny, unable to imagine the pressures of starting his first real relationship in his forties, not to mention choosing the relentlessly curious and literal Murray.

“Tell me what’s going to happen,” Murray persisted, not paying any attention to his friends’ comments.

“Nothing,” Johnny repeated. “Sometimes you get complications with bad breaks like that, but it’s been three weeks. Nothing’s going to go wrong now except maybe a little infection, and we’d catch that in plenty of time to get back to port.”

“Well, what do you think, Boz?” Cody asked. “Do you want to go fishing with your new best friends?”

Murray tried to gauge his expression and decided it was hopeful. Nick looked like he could go either way, so he took the leap.

“Sounds like fun. But won’t you miss your wife, Roy? What does she think of this?”

“She’ll be okay. She knows it’s for the greater good.”

“What’s wrong, she won’t let you go home?” Nick teased.

“He can’t,” Johnny said with an apologetic grin. “He’s my cover. Everyone knows we’re supposed to be vacationing together, so he can’t go home without me.”

“You’re a good friend, Roy DeSoto,” Cody said with admiration. “Volunteering to spend a week on a boat with three strangers.”

“He’s the best,” Johnny agreed, choking up a little at the truth of it. “So, what can we do to get ready?”

“Well, we need groceries and supplies,” Cody said. “Nick, why don’t you and Roy run into town and stock up? You know what we need. I’ll see to the engines, make sure we’re all ship shape and battened down, and Johnny, you look after Murray. Make sure he’s comfortable to travel. And, Boz, do you need any medication refilled before we head out?”

“I’m not sure. Johnny, could you check?”

“You got it.” He squeezed Murray’s hand again, not quite ready to kiss him in front of everyone, and stood gracefully. He went down to the aft cabin and consulted the row of bottles he’d taken the pills from before. The morphine was full, but he still counted them out to make sure there were enough for two extra days at full dosage. The antibiotic would run out in two days and had no refills, while the pulmonary medication would last three days and had one refill. He left the morphine and carried the other two back up to the salon.

“Roy, take this one to the drugstore and get it refilled. I’m gonna call Dr. Early and see if he’ll phone in another course of antibiotics, just in case we need it out there.” He took out his wallet and gave his partner all of the cash he had on him, fifty dollars in fives and tens. “Don’t let Nick pay for the groceries, okay?” he whispered

“Wasn’t going to.” He pocketed the bottle and the money and then went back up to the car to get their gear while the _Riptide_ crew made their lists of supplies.

“So what all do you do out on the open ocean for a week?” Johnny asked, sitting back down beside Murray with the cordless phone.

“Well, we do fish a lot. And I cook a lot. Fish stew, beer battered fish, a little sushi if we happen to catch a good tuna. Or I usually do. I guess I can’t this time.”

“I’m not a bad cook, myself. Maybe you could give me instructions and I could do the heavy lifting.”

“Sure. That’d be great. I also spend a lot of time reading and tinkering with my work. The guys like to read and relax, too. And it’s a good opportunity for them to have loud sex without having to worry about the neighbors,” he added matter-of-factly.

“Really? That doesn’t bother you?”

“No, not at all. It doesn’t bother them when I have a boyfriend along. We just keep to our own cabins and pretend we don’t hear each other. But I’m sure, since you and Roy are new and he doesn’t have a romantic partner along, they’ll be a little more discreet.”

“That’s good. I’m not sure I’m ready for an orgy just yet.”

“No orgies,” Murray laughed. “Just a lot of people in a small space.”

“I’ll take your word for it,” he said, dialing the phone. He smiled at Murray as he asked for the doctor and briefly explained the situation.

“He looks good,” Johnny said, giving him a wink. “Not too much pain, no infection—I think he’s just bored. Yeah, that’s right. No, we don’t have any equipment, but—oh, yeah, I’ve got that in the car. What I need is a refill on his antibiotic. Just in case we get out there and he spikes a fever. It might take a few hours to get back and I want to be on top of it. Um—King Harbor. Hang on.” He covered the mouthpiece and asked Murray for the name of their pharmacy. “Yeah, okay. No, there’s a radio. We’ll be in touch. Thanks, Doc.”

“You sure are good at getting what you want,” Murray said as he hung up.

“It’s all about knowing who to ask. Hey, are you sure this is all right? You really want to get this close this fast? I mean, it’d be just as easy for me and Roy to stay in a motel and come visit when you want to see us.”

“This is better. We take our friends out all the time, but having people who don’t live here going in and out every day might look strange. Besides, I don’t want you changing your mind and disappearing before I’m ready.”

Laughing, Johnny turned around on his knees and kissed him, holding Murray’s face tenderly in both hands. Neither heard Roy open the door, and they didn’t know they had an audience until he alerted them with a dry little cough.

Roy had never seen his partner with a man and hadn’t considered the logical result of his actions when he brought these two together. Of course there would be physical affection, even with Murray’s broken leg, and though he didn’t know much about homosexual acts, he realized now that they would probably get around to figuring out some way to screw properly before the week was out. Assuming that any of the romantic persona that Johnny publicly cultivated was sincere, there was no way this wasn’t happening.

“Sorry, guys,” Roy said with a laugh.

“It’s all your fault,” Johnny reminded him. “Did you bring the first aid kit?”

“’Course I did. Anything else you want while I’m in town?”

“How’re you fixed for aspirin?” he asked Murray.

“Maybe pick up a bottle.”

“Will do.” He put their backpacks in a corner and was ready when Nick and Cody came up from the galley.

“Hey, Nick, don’t forget my tanning oil,” Murray said and looked hurt when they laughed.

“You don’t tan, Boz.”

“I can try. And I want to go out in the sun. I’m cold.”

“Should we change your clothes?” Cody asked. “You want your jeans, and maybe another shirt?”

“No, that’s okay. I want to feel the sun.”

“You’ll get burned,” Nick said, as if it was news.

“I’ve got sunblock,” Johnny told them. “He’ll be okay.”

Nick wanted to argue, to insist that they knew better what their friend needed, but he had to admit that Johnny had them beat.

“Yeah, come on,” Cody said. “They’ll be fine. And I’ll be here if they need anything.”

“Okay, okay, we’re going. And I’m taking your car,” Nick sighed. “Roy, you ready to go?”

“Yep. Johnny, you be good.”

“I always am,” he grinned, twitching his eyebrows playfully.

“Enough flirting with him,” Murray whispered. “Take me outside.”

“You bet. Which way are we going, fore or aft?”

“Um, aft. I have a lounge chair on the deck if we can just get there.”

“No problem.” He hopped up and opened the door, checking the route for obstacles. It looked like a good safe path, and he grinned widely as he scooped Murray up in his arms. “Hold onto me,” he whispered, silently thrilling to the feel of those skinny arms around his neck. He had to turn sideways in the doorway, but the deck was clear and nothing else got in the way.

Murray was reluctant to let go when Johnny crouched down beside the lounger, but they were still in port and he had to protect this good man who cared so much for him.

“Okay?” he murmured, settling Murray’s bony frame into the cushioned vinyl chair. “Want another pillow for your leg? Maybe a sunhat?”

“I don’t think I need a pillow, but I’d like my hat. It’s by the TV in the salon.”

“You got it.” He was gone and back in a minute with the hat and a bottle of sunblock. It was the high SPF that he bought for camping with Roy, whose fair skin didn’t tan easily or well, and he thought it would suffice.

Murray put on the hat and held out his hand for some lotion. He applied it carefully to his face while Johnny rubbed more on his naked feet and legs.

“Oh, that’s nice,” he said with a soft sigh as the professional touch morphed into a gentle massage. He’d never had his feet rubbed before and it was strangely pleasant. But the recognition led immediately to guilt. “I mean, you don’t have to do that.”

“I know. Maybe I just feel like it. Is that all right?”

“Sure. I guess. I—I’m not complaining.” He put some lotion on his arms as Johnny unfastened the brace and covered the pale skin that peeked through.

“When you’re feeling better, you can rub things on me if you want.”

“Oh, that’ll be fun,” Murray said, almost purring. “We can rub things on each other. Maybe in the shower.”

“You’re kinkier than you look, aren’t you?”

“You have no idea.”

Johnny laughed, ducking his head to conceal the blush creeping up his cheeks. It took a lot to make him blush, or it always had, but Murray had a terrible effect on him. So terrible that he couldn’t wait for them to be alone in the dark, free to whisper and blush and touch however they wanted. Suddenly there were a dozen things he wanted to say, but before he could work up the courage, Nick and Roy appeared to ask if they needed anything else from the store. Neighbors stopped by to say hello, not having seen Murray since he got home, and Johnny moved to a chair a couple of feet away where he wouldn’t feel so conspicuous.

The neighbors moved on, Nick and Roy returned with boxes of supplies, and Cody came up to cast off the lines. Murray dozed as the engines fired up and the _Riptide_ eased out of her slip. She cruised up to a fueling station where her tanks were filled and a case of oil taken aboard. Once they cleared the harbor, Nick came out onto the fantail to see how it was going. He found Murray lying still and silent with Johnny sitting close by, his lean body angled to throw the maximum amount of shade over the sleeping man. He was reading an article on the difference between left and right brain activity, his brow furrowed in a frown of concentration. Nick guessed from it that he was probably smart enough to understand most of what he read, but didn’t have the education for it to come easily. Much like Nick himself, except that Johnny seemed to be interested. Nick would rather stare blankly into space than read a scientific article about brain activity. Then he decided that Johnny must be either trying to impress Murray or come up with something to talk about when he woke. Maybe both. It was an admirable effort either way.

“Are you into science?” he asked, sitting down on the bench.

“I’m into a lot of things. The world is just full of incredible stuff. Like, this is fascinating. This guy had half his brain removed and the other half took over all the work. Isn’t that amazing?”

“I guess,” Nick said hesitantly. “I don’t know much about it.”

“Well, no one does. That’s what’s so amazing.”

“That’s probably important in your job.”

“Not really. We don’t get to do much more than scoop and run most of the time. I couldn’t be a doctor or anything, but—it’s just interesting.” He looked at Nick as he spoke, but his posture didn’t change. He wouldn’t move until Murray woke, or until the angle of the sun required him to. “This is what Murray reads?”

“He’s into a lot of things, too. But, yeah. Computer and science magazines, and books. He just got into the history of the industrial revolution, too, so watch out for lectures on that.”

Johnny glanced over at Murray and his frown changed to a thoughtful smile.

“That’s all right. I like to learn new things.”

Nick laughed and immediately found himself staring at that frown again. He shrugged and leaned back in a gesture of deference. Johnny watched him until he was sure the laughter was finished and then returned to the magazine.

“Okay, then. If you need anything, we’ll be up in the wheelhouse. Just give a shout.”

“Sure. Thanks, Nick.” He glanced at Murray again, saw a spot of sunlight on his arm, and moved his chair until his body blocked it again. It was coming on noon and he wasn’t sure what he’d do then, but he wasn’t worried. If nothing else, he’d just carry him back inside.

Nick saw the glance and the casual way Johnny shifted his chair, how he never needed to stretch his back and didn’t seem to feel the sun beating down on his neck, and was shocked at his sudden relief. He hadn’t known how heavily the burden of Murray’s care was weighing on him until it was suddenly removed. Johnny had appeared this morning, a virtual stranger out of nowhere, and in under two hours he’d assumed full responsibility for their injured friend. Nick wouldn’t have allowed it from anyone else, but he remembered that night in the city, riding in the ambulance and watching him take care of Murray, monitoring his breathing, and seeing to it that he stayed alive with the same casual confidence he now displayed while reading _Scientific American_.

“We’ll be dropping anchor in a few minutes and then it’ll be lunch time. Can you wake him up and bring him in?”

“You bet. What’s Roy doing?” he asked without looking up.

“He’s making potato salad.”

“Great. You’ll love it. Roy makes the best potato salad.” This time he did look up and give Nick a little smile.

“I can’t make up my mind about you,” Nick said suddenly. “Are you a friendly guy who comes off as reserved, or a recluse who happens to like Murray?”

“Don’t hold back, Nick. Say what you really think,” he said dryly, smiling just a little as if it was a joke. Nick didn’t think it was.

“I just did.”

“I’m a nice guy, okay? At least that’s what people tell me. But I like Murray especially, and right now I kind of feel like I’m working. He’s asleep and he can’t walk, so I’m responsible.”

“Why you?”

“Because he’s the reason I’m here. If it was Cody, you’d be here, right? Maybe we’re not as close as the two of you, or even you and Murray, but as long as I’m here, I’ll be watching over him. If that’s all right with you.”

“If it’s okay with him, it’s okay with me. I’ll let you know when it’s time to eat.”

“Thanks.” He smiled a little more sincerely and then turned back to the magazine. Nick went up to the wheelhouse as Murray slept on, unaware.


	5. The Lover/Nurse Dichotomy

It was Cody who helped Murray shower that night, dressed him in his silk boxers and put him to bed in the aft cabin. Murray took his medication, but bit the morphine tablet in half and saved the rest for later. Nick made up the cot in the forward cabin for Roy, and he and Cody bedded down in sleeping bags on the salon floor. They wanted to be close to Murray in case he needed them, but not so close that they would hear whatever happened down there. Assuming Murray remembered to keep it down. They discussed the possibility that nothing would happen, but neither seriously believed it.

They were right, of course.

Johnny turned off the light and climbed into bed, stepping over Murray without touching him and lying down against the wall.

“Are you okay, Boz? Do you need to go to sleep?”

“No, not yet. How are you? Is this going too fast?”

“Too fast? No, I think it’s going great. I’ve been waiting all my life to go to bed with a cute guy.”

Murray was lying flat on his back, his left arm around Johnny’s bare shoulders, waiting for it to be time to advance.

“I’m so sorry it was like that for you. I can’t imagine not going after the sexual partners that I want. But in my line of work there are a lot of opportunities for out of town encounters, and it doesn’t have the same stigma. No one cares if scientists and nerds are gay. In fact, no one thinks we have social lives at all.”

“Lucky. But I guess I still wouldn’t trade my life with anyone. I love what I do, I have some great friends, and I’ve had a lot of incredible adventures. This is all that was missing.”

“What kind of adventures? On the job, or—what kind of hobbies do you have?”

“I do a lot of outdoor stuff. Hiking, rock climbing, kayaking. I have a small sailboat, and I’m looking at getting a horse.”

“I—I don’t do any of those things,” Murray said slowly.

“You don’t have to. But you could do some of them with me. We could go sailing. I can handle the boat just fine by myself so you wouldn’t have to do anything. And horseback riding is pretty easy. It’d be good therapy for your leg when you’re ready.”

“Unless I fall off and break it again.”

“I’ll find you a horse you won’t fall off of. Or maybe a little donkey so you can just stand up when you’re done.”

Murray laughed at that, turning his head to kiss Johnny’s cheek and catching his mouth instead. They moved together cautiously, Murray turning into it as far as he could and John accepting without trying to push. He wanted to shove Murray down and ravage him, but the fact that he didn’t really know how to do that kept him under control, following his lover’s lead. But when Murray’s hands tightened on his shoulders and he lay back again, it was an open invitation for Johnny to touch and explore.

So much of this fragile body was already familiar to him. He stroked the slender throat with its fluttery pulse, stronger than before but clearly that of a high-strung individual with a busy heart. His hand slid lower, over the deep wells of Murray’s collar bones and down the narrow expanse of his chest. He recognized the sharp ribs and soft belly that his fingertips had been aching for these past weeks and caressed slowly, savoring the smooth skin, almost as hairless as his own, absorbing the sensations through every pore. Murray sighed, arching up against him, and this time Johnny did press him down.

“Careful,” he whispered. “You don’t want to put stress on that leg.”

“You make me forget all about it,” Murray said, digging his hands into the shaggy hair. He tugged gently and Johnny kissed him again, harder now, with more confidence. Murray felt his growing need and understood that it was time to advance. He disentangled his fingers, let them trail down Johnny’s left arm, and took hold of his hand. Very slowly, he lifted that hand and placed it on his silk-covered erection. They both gasped and the kiss was lost in shared laughter.

“Are you surprised?” Murray asked quietly, tightening his grip so that Johnny squeezed him firmly.

“I shouldn’t be, should I? You _do_ have the longest fingers I’ve ever seen.”

Murray laughed, blushing hotly in the dark, and released Johnny’s hand. Having shown him where he wanted to be touched, he wasn’t going to force it. Johnny kissed him again tentatively, seeking Murray’s guidance even as he slipped his hand inside the silk boxers. Murray gasped against his mouth, his left hand digging more fiercely into Johnny’s hair, and for a few seconds they were still. Then the sensitive fingers began to slide over the smooth, tightly drawn skin, as soft and inviting as the silk that contained it. He had never touched another man this way, had never felt another’s hardness, slick and sticky with arousal. It was both familiar and foreign, so like his own flesh but spiced with Murray’s panting gasps and the almost unbearable joy of his first taste of mutual pleasure.

When he finally broke the kiss, it was to throw off the blankets and ease Murray out of his shorts. The cabin was too dark for him to see much, but the shadows tantalized him. He ran his hand up Murray’s left leg, feeling bristly hair beneath his palm, rubbing small circles with his thumb. He cupped Murray’s testicles firmly, smiling to himself at the answering moan, and then stroked up the length of his shaft. Murray let him fondle and explore in his own way, gasping and sighing at the sweetly inexperienced touch.

“Is that all right?” Johnny whispered, lying down and sliding his arm behind Murray’s neck. Murray turned and kissed him, at the same time wrapping his hand around Johnny’s and showing him exactly what he needed.

“That’s right,” he groaned softly. “Just like that.” He controlled the rhythm and the pace, a swift stroke with a gentle squeeze and release, intended to bring himself off quickly. Johnny let himself be guided, studying every movement and every sound for next time. When Murray was unable to resist trying to thrust, a soft note of pain intruded in his happy moans. Johnny’s arm tightened, pulling him into a kiss, breaking the rhythm to run the ball of his thumb around the head of Murray’s cock and press lightly into the wet slit. Murray bucked into his fist, choking on a cry of pure ecstasy as he came. Johnny kissed him, swallowing his cries, holding him close and sharing his trembling aftershock.

“Are you okay?” he asked, already reaching for the tissues on the nightstand.

“Yes,” Murray said shakily, flinching as the Kleenex touched his over-sensitized skin. “Yes, that—that was wonderful.”

“How’s your leg? Did you hurt yourself?”

“It’s fine. Just fine, really. Don’t worry about it.”

“Sorry. But I can’t help worrying a little, after all the work I put into it and everything.” He dropped the tissues into the trash can by the bed, finding it by memory rather than sight.

“Fair enough. And on that note, I have a reward for you.” Murray slid down a little lower in the bed, turning his upper body as much as he could without stressing his leg. Personally, he thought he could do better, but Johnny wouldn’t enjoy this so much if his attention was split between sex and nursing.

“What are you doing?” he asked, laughing nervously as Murray pulled down his boxers.

“What do you think? And can you help me? I’m not quite up to manhandling you yet.”

The shadows that had baffled Johnny when he was on top made him feel more secure now that he was the one stripped bare. Murray kissed his hairless chest softly, bit a convenient nipple, and then shifted his body again. Slowly, with many a tender kiss, he worked his way down the tanned skin and taut belly to swipe his tongue lightly across the rock-hard shaft. Johnny wasn’t expecting that and flinched violently, unable to stifle a cry.

“Shhh,” Murray whispered, his tickling breath sending shivering waves of heat through his lover’s body. “You don’t want our friends coming to check on us, do you?”

“N—no,” he stammered, squeezing Murray’s shoulder with one hand. “You just—just startled me.”

“Oh. In that case, fair warning, because I’m about to do it again.” Murray teased him deliberately, licking slowly across several times before changing to the preferred base to tip angle. And when he did, he started below the rim of the crown and went down, kissing the muscular thighs, sucking the testicles gently, but always careful not to touch the most sensitive spots.

Johnny choked on the cries he couldn’t utter, amazed by how good this was and wanting to shout it to the world. He’d had oral before, it was the one thing women could do that never failed to get him hard, but it had never been like this. He’d never felt his partner’s desire so clearly, or been able to acknowledge his own without the taint of shame and fear attached. Until tonight, he’d never felt the intimacy of connecting his own pleasure with another’s, and while his base instinct was to leap on this gentle man and penetrate some part of him as quickly as possible, everything operating above the level of basic brainstem activity simply rejoiced.

“Johnny? Are you okay?” Murray whispered, interrupting his whirling thoughts.

“Yeah. Yeah, it’s just—that’s the best thing I’ve ever felt in my life. What do I have to do to get you to finish?”

“You don’t have to do anything,” he said and bent to it again. This time he took the length into his mouth all at once and Johnny nearly screamed. The hand that had been resting on Murray’s shoulder moved to the back of his neck and the other pressed against his forehead, holding him fast as he teased and sucked.

Johnny tried hard not to moan, tried to bite back the needy, greedy sounds of pleasure that bubbled in his throat, and suddenly Murray’s left hand was covering his mouth. He jerked his head back to break the weak grip and bit the side of Murray’s hand, wanting to taste even as he was tasted.

He came quickly, almost without warning, biting too hard on the hand that tried to silence him, thrusting frantically into the welcoming mouth, his fingers digging almost painfully into Murray’s neck. It was the best orgasm of his life, spinning through him like a hurricane and leaving him wrung out, breathless and on the verge of tears. It took a conscious effort to unclench his jaw and Murray stroked his face tenderly as he retrieved his hand.

“You’re okay, baby,” he whispered, rising up and wrapping his arms around his shivering friend. “Hey, come here. You’re okay.” He pulled Johnny closer, holding him tight.

“I might be in love with you now.”

“That’s all right. I might be in love with you, too,” Murray said, still petting his back gently.

“Good. Because I’m thinking I might like to do that to you some time.”

“Do you have any specific time in mind?”

Johnny laughed nervously, even as his hand dropped to Murray’s lap.

“You’re ready again? So soon?”

“Why not? I’m young, you’re young _and_ gorgeous. Besides, I don’t think I’ve ever been anyone’s first before. That’s pretty exciting.”

“You’re pretty exciting yourself.” He tilted his head back and kissed Murray slow and sweet, stroking his erection with a more confident hand than before.

“We can give it a try if you want. I’m always in favor of experimentation.”

“Are you comfortable? Here, you should be lying down.”

“You’re never off duty, are you?” Murray teased as Johnny sat up and helped him arrange his long limbs in the most comfortable and accessible position.

“Not when people I care about are involved.” He nipped lightly at the vulnerable throat, subtly feeling for his pulse, before easing down and kissing Murray’s shaft. He worked into it slowly, getting used to the taste and scent, surprised at how quickly he came to want more. Murray’s hand was light on his neck, his thrusts shallow, and it took him much longer to come. But Johnny really wanted him to have that, and moreover he wanted to share it with him, so he kept it up, sucking and swallowing as Murray had done for him. Near the end, when Murray knew he was close, he tried to push Johnny away. But the stronger hand captured his and held it as Johnny glanced up at him and winked. Murray’s breath caught in his throat and he came without further warning, too far gone to care.

It was Johnny’s good luck that his first blowjob was Murray’s second orgasm in an hour. Next time he would choke on the flood of semen, but tonight it was easy to swallow and he focused more on the twitching spasms and sobbing sighs. He licked and sucked until Murray was soft again, then stretched out by his side and pulled the blankets over them both. Murray wrapped his arm around Johnny’s shoulders and held him, breathing the warm scent of his sweat and shampoo.

“Anytime you want to go again,” Murray whispered, “I’m here for you.”

“Again?”

“You only got one. I owe you.”

“You need to get some sleep. Want the other half of that morphine tablet?”

“If you can reach it,” he said with a smile. “Don’t get up.”

“Wasn’t gonna.” Johnny reached him and fumbled the pill from the dish on the nightstand. He slipped it between Murray’s lips and held the water glass for him to drink before settling down and laying his head on the bony shoulder. After a few moments, he said, “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure. No secrets, right?”

“I don’t know about that,” Johnny laughed. “But I am curious, and it might come up.”

“Okay, what’s on your mind?”

He paused, uncertain how to begin. It was probably a bad idea to have even started this, and for a few seconds he tried to think of another question to pass off instead. But he was falling hard for this guy, they had just exchanged body fluids, and now they were going to fall asleep together. Naked. There was only one thing he really wanted to know right now, so he cleared his throat nervously and asked.

“Do you—I mean, have you ever—you know, do you like to—uh—you know…?” He was blushing so hard Murray could feel the heat against his shoulder and a thin sheen of sweat formed between them. Murray was pretty sure he knew what this was about, but it was kind of funny, so he played dumb.

“Do I what?”

“You know—with your boyfriends—other than oral and—manual…?”

Murray bit his tongue to keep from laughing and then let him off the hook.

“Are you asking if I have buttsex?” he whispered, laughing just a little in spite of his best efforts.

“I’m trying to,” Johnny whispered back, mercifully able to laugh at himself.

“You’re allowed to ask me things like that. If we’re going to be a couple, you’re entitled to know what you’re getting.”

“Okay, cool. So, do you?”

“Oh, yes,” he said cheerfully. “With certain people. It’s the most intimate form of sex, for me at least, and I don’t share it with everyone that I sleep with. But I would with you.”

“You would?”

“Sure. You’re the guy who saved my life. The guy who admitted he was gay for me. The guy I probably care too much about, considering we pretty much just met. I think I’d do anything with you.”

“So do you prefer to, uh, give or receive?” He was still blushing, but also still laughing, and Murray kissed him on the forehead before answering.

“I like both. I guess I take a little more than I give in that respect because I tend to get involved more often with guys who prefer to—give.”

“How many guys are we talking about? I didn’t have you pegged as the type to throw it around in the nightclubs or anything.”

“I’m not. Although I do like a good party. And I’m not a bad dancer. But if I’m ‘throwing it around’ anywhere, it’s at tech conferences and geek-fests. And most of the sex I’ve had has been of the rubbing-on-each-other-up-against-the-wall variety. I’ve had fewer than a dozen actual boyfriends and only, let’s see, four of them were butt sex-worthy.”

“But I am?” Johnny asked, tipping his head back and turning Murray’s face toward him with his hand.

“Of course. Not until my leg heals, though. I haven’t been able to think of a position yet where that wouldn’t hurt. I’ll keep thinking about it, though, and if I come up with one, I’ll let you know.”

“Yeah? You want to let me—screw you? Like a girl?”

“No, Johnny, I want you to screw me like a man. If you want to. If you don’t, we can keep doing this. And rub on each other up against the wall, of course. That one’s great for quickies.”

“I have a lot to learn, don’t I?”

“It’ll be fun.” Murray yawned and kissed him again. “But I’m falling asleep, love. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. You need your rest. We’ll have time to talk tomorrow.”

“All week. You’ll be tired of me by the time we get home.”

“Not a chance. Goodnight, Brown Eyes.” He kissed the pale face one more time and then snugged under his arm, his head resting on Murray’s chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart.

“Goodnight, Johnny. And thank you.”

He mumbled something in response that Murray didn’t hear and that he wouldn’t remember himself in the morning.

***

The _Riptide_ woke well after dawn, but only three people were up and about. Nick and Cody showered first, together, and then went to make breakfast while Roy shaved and dressed. When he joined them in the galley, Nick handed him a cup of coffee and asked how he’d slept.

“Not bad. The peace and quiet’s a nice change from the kids and the dog and the job. I think we’ve been spending our vacations in the wrong places all these years.”

“This is the best way of life I know,” Cody said, pleased by the praise. “Any time we want, we just take off. And we have all the comforts of home without the irritations.”

“Almost all the comforts,” Nick corrected. “No pizza or cable TV.”

“It’s a fair trade,” Cody said and Roy agreed. “So where are the doctor and patient? Did you see them, Roy?”

“The door was closed and I didn’t hear anything, so I let them be. Those drugs Murray’s taking are pretty strong, and Johnny always sleeps like the dead.”

“Someone ought to go find out if they want breakfast,” Nick said. “Any volunteers?”

“Roy ought to do it,” Cody said thoughtfully. “If they’re naked, and they probably are, Johnny will be a lot more shy of us than Murray will be of you. Just knock first.”

“Sure.” He set down his cup and went back to the cabin where his friend slept. He knocked three times before he got an answer and opened the door. Murray was awake, lying on his back with Johnny’s dark head nestled against his chest. He was wearing his glasses but still looked half-asleep, smiling vaguely as he twined Johnny’s hair around his fingers. Roy was struck by the scene, by his friend’s peaceful surrender in the arms of a kind man. This was what he’d needed all these years. What he’d never been able to look for openly and had never really hoped to find.

“Cody’s making breakfast. Do you want to get up or should he bring you something?”

“Tell him I’d like to get up in a few minutes,” he murmured. “Thank you, Roy.”

“No problem.” He backed out and closed the door, hiding his smile until he was safely away. It seemed possible that Murray would misunderstand and Roy didn’t want him to think he was being laughed at. He would never laugh at the man his best friend loved, but he guessed Murray might not know that. He probably got laughed at a lot.

“Hey, Johnny,” Murray whispered, tickling the back of his neck lightly. Johnny snorted sleepily and raised his head, the memories of last night flooding back.

“Hey, babe. How’re you doing?” he asked quietly, stroking Murray’s chest as he sat up.

“I’m fine. Roy was just here. He says there’s breakfast.”

“Are you hungry? You want me to bring you something?”

“I think I’d like to go up to the salon, if it’s not too much trouble. But I need to get dressed and use the head. Would you mind telling Cody I’m ready to get up?”

“Sure. But maybe I can help? I’m pretty useful.”

“Yes, you are,” he said, smiling shyly. But then his expression turned troubled. “I’m just—I’m not sure…”

“No, it’s okay. Forget I said anything.” He kissed Murray on the cheek and climbed out of bed, pulling his clothes on swiftly.

“Hey, wait a minute. Johnny, I didn’t mean—let me explain.”

“You don’t have to. It’s your business, Murray.” His voice was stern and steady, as if his first duty was still soothing Murray’s fears, but there was anger on his face and hurt in every gesture.

“Johnny, wait. Don’t be mad, please. I can explain.”

“I said you don’t have to. I’ll see you at breakfast.” He was gone in a flash, but closed the door very quietly, with just a tiny click that was somehow much worse than the slams and crashes of Nick and Cody’s arguments. Murray knew how to withstand storms that thundered and raged before blowing out to sea. He didn’t know how to counter cold silence and false understanding, or what to say when explanations weren’t allowed.

Johnny stopped in the head first, giving himself a minute to think and plan the face he would wear and the words he would use. He was a guest here, he didn’t want to spit on their hospitality, and most of all, he didn’t want to do or say anything that would make it impossible to listen to Murray later. Because last night was real, he was sure of that. He’d felt close to Murray in a way that he’d never felt close to anyone in his life. As if he could talk freely, be naked and open in every way, and Murray would understand. That was real, and if he lost it now, he’d never have the courage to open up like that to anyone else.

“Don’t fuck it up,” he whispered to the frightened man in the mirror. “Just be cool and don’t fuck up.”

Then he opened the door and went forward to the galley where everyone else was drinking coffee while bacon fried on the stove.

“Morning, all,” he said cheerfully, and only Roy could tell that something was wrong. Had gone wrong in the five minutes since he first knocked on the door, in fact. “Cody, Murray asked me to tell you he’s ready to get up. He wants to eat in the salon.”

The quirk of his eyebrows and the quick glance he threw at Nick confirmed Johnny’s suspicions. They were as surprised by the request as he was. Obviously everyone had expected him to be in charge, and they didn’t have any better idea why Murray had decided against it than he did.

“That’s good,” was all Cody said. “He needs to get out of that room more often.”

When Cody was gone, Johnny poured a cup of coffee and drank it leaning against the doorway. Nick’s curious looks worried him, and his own posture didn’t invite questions. The silence stretched out, punctuated only by the snap of grease in the pan, and it was Nick who gave in and broke it.

“This won’t be ready for another ten minutes or so. You guys might want to take a walk on deck. It’s real pretty out this time of day.”

“That sounds like a great idea,” Roy said immediately. “We’ll be sure not to lose your mugs.” He grabbed Johnny’s elbow and steered him up to the salon and outside before he could share his opinion either way.

“It is a nice day, isn’t?” Roy asked as the two of them leaned against the starboard rail.

“I guess.”

“Something wrong, Johnny? You two looked awfully cozy a few minutes ago.”

“I don’t know. I thought everything was fine and then suddenly he was sending me away.”

“Yeah? You didn’t say anything? Didn’t have an argument or anything?”

“When did we have time?” he cried in a frustrated whisper. “It was pretty much just good morning and then he was done with me.”

“I think I can explain it if you want.”

“I wish somebody would.”

“It’s not about you, Johnny. That’s the important thing to remember.”

“Then who _is_ it about? Because it seems like there aren’t too many other people out here.”

“It’s about his feelings. Murray’s.” Roy sipped his coffee and stared down into the sea. “I’m not trying to get too personal, but you did have sex last night, didn’t you?”

Johnny nodded without looking up and Roy caught the motion in his peripheral vision.

“Well, there you have it.”

“Have what? Will you stop talking it riddles?” This time he did look up, but Roy just smiled and went on watching the waves.

“When we met him, you were working. You saved his life because he was injured in our district. It’s different now.”

“Different how? Damn it, Roy, don’t make me yell at you where people can hear.”

“You’re so new at this it hurts. Look, you want what he wants, don’t you?”

“Yeah, I guess. So long as what he wants is me.”

“He does. But he wants you for a lover, not a nurse. And that’s a good thing, Johnny. He wants romance from you right now, not reality. There’s a big difference between seeing him naked in bed and seeing him on the toilet. Let his friends handle the reality if that’s what he wants. Seems like they’re used to it.”

“You really think that’s it?” he asked, finally looking Roy in the eye.

“I’d bet a year’s pay on it. I’d also bet that if you give him a chance, he’ll tell you himself. And that’s what you’re here for, right? To get to know him better?”

“Yeah, okay. Thanks, Roy. For all this. You’re always looking after me and I—I appreciate it.”

“We look after each other. And I’m getting a nice vacation, too.”

“Always riding my coattails, aren’t you?”

“Makes it easier to watch your back.”

Johnny laughed, more at himself than anything else. Roy was right—he was painfully new at this and mistakes were inevitable. But he didn’t think he could have found a better man with whom to learn. He would apologize and explain, and Murray would surely understand.

“What about you? Are you really having a good time?” he asked, sounding almost guilty. “I feel like you’re getting left out a lot.”

“No, it’s fine. Good for me, in fact. It gives me an idea of how you’ve felt all these years, being the single guy in a world full of couples. Except I still have it easier knowing my wife’s waiting for me at home.”

“Well, I guess I’m not so single now. And you know what? It feels good.”

They were just finishing their coffee when Cody leaned out of the wheelhouse and called them in for breakfast. They went up and followed him down into the salon where Nick was setting the table.

“Murray’s waiting for you,” Cody said. “He doesn’t want us carrying him on the stairs while there’s a professional around.”

“Man who appreciates my talents,” he grinned and set his cup down on the table. He heard them laughing as he headed down the passageway but he didn’t care. They could laugh at him if they wanted to. It didn’t hurt.

He tapped lightly on the half-open door and went in. Murray was sitting on the edge of the bed, his splinted leg extended before him and his good leg pulled up against his chest. He looked like he was about to try to get up, and Johnny moved quickly to preclude it.

“There you are,” Murray said, his voice filled with relief.

“Sure I’m here. What was I gonna do? Swim to shore?” He was still grinning, his tone light and playful, and Murray realized that somehow the hurt and anger he’d left with had disappeared, though less than half an hour had passed.

“No, I guess not. So, are we okay? You’re not still mad at me?”

Johnny sat down beside him and slid his arm around Murray’s narrow waist.

“I wasn’t mad at you. I just couldn’t figure out why you didn’t want my help. I guess it hurt my feelings a little.”

“I’m sorry, Johnny. I really didn’t mean anything against you, I just—I don’t know how to say it.”

“Roy told me you wanted a lover, not a nurse. Is that close?”

“Yes! That’s it exactly. I’m just not ready for you to see everything yet. I know, it’s nothing you haven’t seen before, but you haven’t seen _me_ and I—I want this part to last a little longer.”

“I understand. I really do. I didn’t before, but it’s just because I’m so new at this. When Roy explained it, it made perfect sense. I might be a heroic tough guy and everything, but I’m also a romantic.”

“I’m glad,” Murray said, smiling shyly. Johnny caught him by the back of the neck and kissed him quickly.

“So you want to go have some breakfast? It smells pretty good.”

“I’d love to. I’m starving.”

“How’s your leg this morning? Did you take your medication?”

“Just a few minutes ago. I have to eat fast before I fall asleep.”

“Does it hurt? Is the pain better than yesterday?”

“It’s a little better, but—why? I thought you weren’t doing the nurse routine.”

“I’m not. I’m just about to do something that might hurt if you were feeling fragile.”

“Good thing I’m not, then. Come on, I’m hungry.”

“All right, be patient.” He kissed Murray again and stood up. “Can you stand? They told me you were hopping a little.”

“Yes, if you help me up.” He dropped his left foot to the floor and leaned that way as Johnny lifted him, steadying him until he had his balance. Then Johnny turned around and crouched slightly, drawing Murray’s arms around his shoulders and settling his grip.

“You hold on tight,” he instructed as he straightened his back. He caught Murray’s left leg and wrapped it around his waist, then laced his hands together under his bony ass. “Don’t try to move, okay? You know I won’t drop you.”

“I know,” Murray said, nuzzling his ear and making him laugh.

“Don’t do that, either. Get me laughing and we’ll both fall.”

“But you’re so tempting.”

Johnny pinched him reprovingly before carrying him out of the cabin and up the stairs.

***

After breakfast, Johnny carried him out on deck and they settled into the cushioned lounger together, Murray lying between his thighs with his broken leg stretched out flat. Johnny let his right foot rest on the deck, his left leg bent up and his foot tucked between Murray’s knees. He kept one arm wrapped around Murray’s shoulders, just a little bit low of a chokehold, as his other hand wandered possessively over the bony ribs and flat stomach. Murray had taken off his glasses and was dozing lightly, his face turned against Johnny’s neck to block out the sun. The gentle hands on his body didn’t disturb him any more than the low conversation that went on around them, and all of his dreams were hazy and sweet.

***

Roy joined Nick in making lunch, a big meal whose leftovers would serve as supper since it promised to be too hot to cook in the evening, and Cody went along in the hopes that they would be less boring. Murray was still drowsing and Johnny wasn’t good company for anyone else. Even asleep, Murray was all he had eyes or ears for.

“You know,” Nick said quietly, “Murray’s brought a couple of serious boyfriends home but this is first one that couldn’t keep him hands to himself for five minutes. I mean, I love the little guy and everything, but I’m not sure I buy him as a sex symbol.”

“I’m sure he is for some people,” Cody shrugged. “Maybe he happens to be exactly Johnny’s type. Roy, does he have a type?”

“I have no idea. It took me eight years to figure out that he liked men and this is the first time I’ve ever seen him with one.”

Nick whistled softly, amazed that anyone could live a life so thoroughly closeted without going insane.

“You think that’s good for Murray?” Cody asked.

“Why not?” The question was directed at Cody but it was Nick who answered.

“Well, it’s a lot of fun right now, but what if Murray _isn’t_ his type? What if Johnny gets a little confidence and goes looking for someone prettier or whatever? Maybe he really wants a fireman. How does he even know?”

“I couldn’t tell you,” Roy said. “People do change over time, and almost no one marries his first love. Murray probably knows that. But Johnny’s a good guy. He might not know anything about having a boyfriend, but he’s the most loyal person I know. To his friends, his co-workers, even his folks on the reservation and they won’t have anything to do with him. I can’t imagine him hurting someone who’s helped him as much as Murray has.”

“I hope so,” Nick said, lowering his voice even more. “After what happened with Ted, we want Murray to be as happy as possible before he gets his heart broken again.”

“Who’s Ted? I don’t mean to be nosy, but as long as I’m explaining my friend…”

“Ted Quinlan. He was a cop in King Harbor. They were together for a couple years and it was really serious. Lifetime commitment serious. Then Ted was killed in the line of duty. We were working a case together, in fact.”

“My God,” Roy said softly. “That’s terrible.”

“It was. It just destroyed Murray. He was in denial for a long time, insisting it was a cover-up, that Ted had just gone undercover and he’d be back. It was a good four or five months before he really even started to grieve. Remember that, Cody? We were having dinner and he suddenly put his fork down and said, _Ted’s not coming back, is he?_ We said no and he just fell apart. God, he cried almost nonstop for, what, two or three weeks? We couldn’t even leave the boat. He couldn’t hold it together enough to go anywhere and we were afraid to leave him alone.”

“Yeah, that was—horrifying,” Cody agreed. “I hadn’t seen anything like it since the war.”

“Jeez. How long ago was that? I mean, he seems okay now.”

“It was right before Christmas two years ago,” Nick said. “He made a decision not to date until after the one year anniversary, and he hasn’t met many people since then.”

“There were a couple dates,” Cody said.

“Yeah, a couple. I don’t think he slept with them, though. He’s usually pretty selective. For a skinny little geek, he attracts a lot of action, but he turns down most of it.”

“Good news for Johnny,” Roy said and returned to stirring the potatoes. “All in all, I’d say they’re probably a good match. At least they won’t hurt each other.”

“We hope. Let’s face it, being a firefighter isn’t safer than being a cop.”

“Thanks for that, Nick.”

“He’s not wrong,” Roy said mildly. “Except we have more protective equipment.”

“Yeah, well, let’s not bury him just yet,” Cody snorted. “They’re having fun. Can’t we just leave it at that?”

“Sorry,” Nick said perfunctorily. “I’m gonna go see if they’re okay. Murray probably needs some more sunscreen by now.”

“He’s a bit of a pessimist, isn’t he?” Roy asked after Nick had gone.

“Sometimes. We just hate seeing Murray get hurt, and it happens a lot.”

“I know the feeling. I think I’ve visited Johnny in the hospital more than I have in his apartment. And come to think of it, half the visits to his home were to check up on him while he was recovering.”

“I thought he was good at his job.”

“He’s great. The problem is that he’s totally fearless and he has terrible luck. If you ever see a guy running into a burning building when all the other firefighters are running out, that’ll be him. And I’ll be the fool running after him.”

“Wow. And I thought we had it tough in ‘Nam.”

“That was probably worse,” Roy said generously.

“Yeah, but it ended. Your job won’t. Buildings will keep burning down for the rest of your life.”

“True. And we spend most of our time on car wrecks these days, and those numbers are only going up.”

“I couldn’t look at that all day every day. You guys are really brave. You probably hear that all the time, and it’s a terrible understatement, but I don’t have any better words. I can’t stop thinking of the hotel rescue as an isolated event. It was for us, but it’s not for you, is it? It’s just a day’s work.”

“Pretty much. Some days are worse than others, but any time there’s an earthquake or a wildfire, we’re there.”

“And Murray will get to watch it on TV.”

“If it’ll help, he can go watch it with my wife. She’s going to love Murray, by the way. You guys will have to come over for a barbecue and meet the family.”

“Your wife’s okay with all this?” he asked cautiously.

“With what, gay people? Sure. At least she loves Johnny, and I’m certain that’ll extend to whoever he loves. She’s worse than me when it comes to wanting to see him settled down and happy. He’s too old to have never been in love.”

“That just breaks my heart. I didn’t know people were still living in the closet like that in this day and age.”

“If they’re in the department, they are. I think these potatoes are done. What do you want me to do next?”

“Drain them, I guess, and wait for Nick. He’s the cook around here. At least when Murray’s out of action.”

Roy dumped the pot into a colander in the sink and moved on to helping Cody chop vegetables for the salad. After a moment, he asked Cody how long he’d owned his boat and the subject was effectively changed.

Out on deck, Nick was smiling at his friend, still cuddled in Johnny’s arms on the lounge chair. Murray was asleep, but he still moved occasionally, nuzzling Johnny’s throat as he dreamed happy dreams of love. Johnny had one hand on his right hip and the other under his shirt, stroking Murray’s belly just firmly enough that it didn’t tickle. Nick couldn’t help noticing the erection tenting Murray’s shorts, and he guessed Johnny knew about it, too, because he slipped his hand out from the under the t-shirt and casually pulled it down to shield his lover in the same motion. Nick found himself liking Johnny more for that single gesture than for saving Murray’s life in the first place. Any firefighter would have done that, but not all lovers would protect his dignity.

“You guys still okay?” he asked quietly. “Can I get you anything?”

Johnny shook his head, not wanting to speak and risk waking Murray.

“You think I should put some sunscreen on his legs? He’s getting a little pink.”

“Don’t wake him,” Johnny whispered.

“Better to mess up his nap than let him get burned.”

Johnny realized there was some kind of power play going on, that he was threatening Nick in some way, and a flash of anger swept over him. He didn’t want to fight these men for possession of his lover—a fight would only wound the gentle soul they all valued—and he didn’t want a lover who could be possessed. But most of all, he didn’t want to always be second-guessed and overruled, as he suspected Murray often was.

Though he was quick to anger, and capable of holding long, if superficial, grudges, Johnny was also reasonable. He swallowed it down and smiled, hard and insincere.

“I guess you know best,” he said lightly, but his narrowed eyes implied disbelief.

Nick picked up the bottle, warm from the sun, and squeezed some lotion into his palm. He rubbed his hands together briefly and began stroking Murray’s long, sweaty legs. It wasn’t something Johnny wanted to watch. He closed his eyes, resting his cheek against Murray’s forehead, and waited for Nick to finish. Murray didn’t wake.

“Lunch will be ready in about an hour. He’s always real groggy for a while after he sleeps in the sun, so you might want to wake him up early.”

“Sure. Better remind me, though. In case I forget.”

Nick acknowledged his words with a noncommittal grunt and went inside. There was a lot more to this guy than he’d suspected.


	6. Like We Did At the Hotel

That night, it was Nick’s turn to help Murray shower and get in bed. Nothing was said about it this time. Johnny and Roy amused Cody with stories about their work, and Cody felt no need to compete with stories of his own. There was a lot he didn’t know about firefighting and rescue work, and it was a pleasure to listen to their enthusiastic recitals. Although not all of his enjoyment came from the stories themselves. He was also studying Johnny—trying to figure out how deep he went and how much of him was real beneath the laughter and bold talk. The laughter would be enough for now, Murray needed to laugh, but after a while he would need a real person. Cody wished he knew if Johnny was one, but he just couldn’t decide.

Roy was telling a story about a car wreck that involved a friend of theirs, a police officer who sustained a head injury that caused him to try to shoot them in his confusion, when he was interrupted by a shout from below. Nick yelled something, Murray screamed, and a wet thud shook the boat. Roy cut his words off cleanly and leapt to his feet, but he wasn’t quite as fast as Johnny, who’d knocked his chair over and was on the stairs before Cody could get out from behind the table. Johnny reached the door of the head first, but the other two were less than a second behind him.

Inside, Murray was lying on the floor, naked and wet, his head and shoulders in the shower stall, jammed under the plastic chair he sat on to bathe. Nick crouched beside him, soaking wet in a t-shirt and swim trunks, looking as stunned as Murray. He hadn’t even turned off the shower, and Johnny’s first fear was that Nick would suddenly leap into action. Murray might not be hurt, but that could change in a hurry if someone panicked.

“Hey, Nick,” he called sharply, and the big man looked up. That was good. That was exactly what he wanted. He stepped into the head, skirting Murray’s legs carefully and knelt across from Nick.

“I’m sorry. Murray, Johnny, I’m so sorry.”

“Turn off the water, okay? And then get us some towels.”

“He just slipped. I was standing him up and his feet went flying…”

“Turn off the water, Nick,” he repeated forcefully. “Cody, get me some towels.”

This time Nick stood up and turned off the faucet. Then he didn’t seem to know what to do. His face was blank with shock, as if the horror of this accident was unfathomable. When he had time to think about it, Johnny would conclude that it probably was. Murray was still in a fragile state, his leg could have been re-broken, and they were far out at sea. When he had time to think about it, Johnny would be stunned and horrified, too. Right now, he was just dealing with the problem.

“Roy, get him out of here,” he called and reached for the towel that Cody was handing him. Cody went to the locker across the passage from the head to get more while Roy drew Nick out of the way. “Where’s that med kit?”

“In the salon,” Roy said and ran to get it. Cody made one more foray into the head to lift the plastic shower chair out of their way and carry it up to the salon. Then he returned to hold onto Nick, who didn’t look like he could stand much longer.

Johnny laid one of the towels over Murray’s still form, covering him from the tops of his thighs to his chest. He used another to dry his face and then spread it across his chest and shoulders. Only then did he begin his exam.

“Murray, can you hear me? Open your eyes.”

His long lashes fluttered and his chest rose in a panicky gasp. He tried to raise his head and Johnny pinned it with a hand on his forehead. Murray felt it and remembered last night, a hazy memory of a hand on his forehead and one on his neck, his mouth full of cock and moans filling his ears. That was a good memory and he tried to hold onto it, preferring that over the cold tile beneath his back and the edge of the shower stall biting into his shoulders. But Johnny kept talking, giving him orders in a sharp tone of command.

Finally, he forced his eyes open and looked up into the blurry face above him. He still couldn’t catch his breath enough to speak, but the hands that touched him were soothing and familiar. He was hurt, but he wasn’t afraid.

“All right, Murray? Can you hear me okay?”

He nodded weakly and the hand on his forehead lightened.

“Did you hit your head when you fell?”

His expression remained puzzled, as if he didn’t know, or perhaps didn’t understand the question. Johnny looked around for Nick, who was still standing in the doorway where Cody held him up. He hadn’t gone to dry himself or change his clothes and there was a puddle of water around his feet.

“Nick, were you watching? Did he hit his head?”

“Yeah, of course I was watching. I grabbed his arm and his head fell back—it might’ve hit the wall. He just—he just slipped out of my hands.”

Roy came in then and put the emergency medical kit on the floor beside them. He opened it and Johnny fished out his penlight.

“Murray, listen to me. I’m gonna check your eyes now, okay? Like we did at the hotel. Just look up at the ceiling.”

Murray twitched his head in understanding, but couldn’t help flicking his eyes over at Johnny’s face. After that he seemed to relax a little and his rapid breathing evened out.

“There you go. That’s good, baby. Just keep breathing.” He flicked the light across Murray’s eyes and watched his pupils contract. “There, that’s good. Does your head hurt? Did you hit it when you fell?”

He nodded again and raised his right hand, groping weakly at his chest. He felt the towel that covered him and let his hand fall away, satisfied.

“Are you still listening?”

Murray flicked a tiny nod and let his eyes close.

“Don’t do that. Come on, look at me.” He snapped his fingers and Murray gave him another glance. “Damn it. Nick, has he already had his evening medication?”

“What?” Nick said blankly.

“Has he already had his painkillers?”

“No. No, should I go get them?”

Johnny gave Roy a look that made him turn and speak to Nick more kindly than he could have done. Then he turned back to Murray and picked up his wrist, counting the pulse while stroking back wet hair with his other hand.

“Should we head back to port?” Cody asked nervously. “We’re nearer Santa Monica now. I think we could get there in a couple hours.”

“Let’s give it a minute and see,” Roy said quietly.

“Murray, are you still listening?” Johnny asked and got another nod. “Does your neck hurt? Or your back?”

“My shoulders hurt,” he whispered. “Can I sit up?”

“I wish we had a backboard,” Roy said, and this time it was Johnny who nodded.

“We have what we have. Baby, does this hurt?” he asked, running his fingers down the back of Murray’s neck, pressing gently until the edge of the stall blocked him.

“No. Please, I want to sit up.” His head had cleared a little and he was overly conscious of the fact that he was naked and blind, and that everyone was looking at him.

“Just a minute.” He slipped his hand under Murray’s back and probed his spine from shoulder to waist. “What about this? Does it hurt here? Any muscle pain?”

“No, it’s fine. Johnny, please, let me up.”

He looked at Roy again and got a shrug. There was no way to know unless they tried.

“All right, but you let me do the lifting and if it hurts, you say so. Understand? This is not the time to be brave.”

“I thought I was supposed to be brave when I’m hurt.”

“You’re not crying. That’s brave enough for me.” He eased his arm behind Murray’s neck and lifted him gently. The towels slid off his chest and gathered at his bony hips. Murray shivered and Johnny wrapped a dry towel around his shoulders, holding him until he grew calm. “What about your leg? Does it hurt?”

“Some. I was trying not to put any weight on it and my left foot slipped. I don’t think it’s broken, I just banged it when I landed.”

“That still has to hurt.”

“It’s a little worse than it was before,” he conceded. “Johnny, I’m sorry. We were trying so hard to be careful…”

“I know you were. And it’s nothing to be sorry for. Accidents happen, okay? Let’s just make sure you’re all right.”

Murray was surprised at the inflection of his voice, that overly-calm, patronizing tone he remembered from the hotel, and tried to tilt his head back to read Johnny’s face. But his vision was blurry without his glasses and, he suspected, doubled by the knock on the head, and Johnny’s hard shoulder kept him from moving his head that far anyway.

“Roy, how do you want to get him out of here?”

“There’s not a lot of room to work, is there? Maybe I can stand him up and you can get him over your shoulder.”

“No, wait,” Murray cried in a whisper. “What are you doing?”

“We’re gonna put you in bed. It’ll be okay.”

“Wait, please,” he said again, and now he sounded like he might cry after all.

“What’s wrong? Where are you hurt?”

“Nowhere, I just—I don’t want—”

“Hang on.” He pressed Murray’s head gently to his shoulder and held it there, shielding his face with his hand. “Roy, can you guys wait outside? I think we need a minute.”

“Sure. I’ll be right by the door.” And he was, but after he closed it, he encouraged Nick and Cody to wait somewhere else so the passage wouldn’t be so crowded.

“Okay, now can you tell me what’s wrong? Or do you want someone else? Is this one of those things where you’d prefer a friend?”

“No, I want you,” he whispered. “I just—I can’t see and I’m naked and everyone was looking at me. I—I can’t have a bunch of people staring at me like this. It’s not who they are so much as it is the—the number.”

“All right. It’s all right, Murray. Just tell me what to do and I’ll do it.”

“Can you pick me up yourself, if I help? Or keep me covered if you can’t?”

“I think so. Is that your robe on the back of the door?”

Murray nodded and Johnny hugged him tighter for a few seconds, kissing him on top of the head.

“Okay, just hold on a minute. Can you sit up if I let go?”

“I think so.”

“Somehow I’m not convinced. Grab my hand, okay? I’ll hold onto you.”

Murray gripped Johnny’s right hand in both of his and clung to it as Johnny stretched for the robe. For the first time ever, he was glad the head was so small. By leaning forward a little, he gave Johnny enough reach to catch the hem and shake it down off the peg.

“Wow, teamwork,” Murray said, blushing helplessly.

“It’s the only way to go. Here, give me your arms.” He put the robe on Murray and belted it around his waist. “Okay, how’s that?”

“Better,” he said shakily. “Thank you, Johnny. I—I’m sorry I’m screwing up your whole professional thing. You were doing so well and then I had to get all emotional and—and I’m sorry.”

“No, baby, don’t,” he murmured, hugging him again. “It’s okay. If I can be professional without compromising your dignity, I will. But your health _does_ come first, okay? If I have to choose, that’s the way I’m gonna go.”

“I know. I know, it’s just scary. I get so scared sometimes…” He trailed off, sounding sleepy and confused.

“It’s okay, we don’t have to talk about this. Let’s just get you up off the floor for now.”

“Can you?” he murmured, his eyes falling shut.

“Roy,” Johnny called, startling him into opening his eyes for a second. “Roy, get in here.”

“What’s going on?” Roy asked, leaning in the door.

“He’s going fuzzy on me. I think he must’ve really whacked his head.”

“Damn. Maybe we should head for shore.”

“Yeah, maybe. Let’s get him to bed and give it a few minutes.”

Roy eased in behind Murray and lifted him by the waist, angling their bodies to keep the weight off his splinted leg. He got halfway up and Johnny stepped in, taking the bony frame across his shoulder.

“Where are the guys?” he asked before he stepped out the door.

“Up in the salon. But they heard you calling me, so they’re probably watching.”

“That’s all right. Just keep them out of the cabin for a few minutes so I can get him into bed.”

“Did he change his mind about the lover/nurse dichotomy?” he asked, following Johnny to the aft cabin.

“Right around the time he got hurt. Now he just doesn’t want everyone looking at him. This shit’s a lot more complicated than I expected, but I think I’m getting it.”

Roy helped him lay Murray on the bed, pretending not to see the way he made sure the robe stayed closed.

“Let’s get this splint off and change the bandage,” Roy said quietly. “I’ll go get another towel.”

They unstrapped it with brisk efficiency, unwrapped the wet gauze, dried Murray’s leg and wrapped his thigh again. He woke while they were putting the brace back on, startled by Roy’s presence but not offended enough to complain.

“Hey, there’s my guy,” Johnny said with a gentle smile. “How’re you doing?”

“My head hurts. I think I’m okay, though. You weren’t worried, were you?”

“Me? No, I wasn’t worried.” He covered Murray with a sheet and blanket and then very carefully explored the back of his head with experienced fingers. “You’ve got a little bump here. Roy, take a look at this.”

Roy felt it, too, and they agreed that it probably wasn’t serious. Still, it would bear watching.

“We’re thinking maybe we should head for a port somewhere,” Roy said. “You probably ought to have your leg x-rayed, and maybe a head CT.”

“Do you really think so?” Murray asked, pushing himself up on his hands. But that made him dizzy and he lay down quickly. “I don’t feel that bad and I hate to ruin everyone’s good time. The guys would be so worried, and it’s probably nothing. Can’t we wait and see what happens? How long would it take?”

“I guess if symptoms didn’t appear in the next couple hours, you’d probably be okay,” Roy said slowly. “But if they come on fast, we might be too far away from help.”

“True. But I think if it was going to be that bad, I’d already know. I’m talking to you, right? And I was never fully unconscious. I think I heard everything you said. We can wait two hours if it’ll save the rest of the week, can’t we?”

“Yeah, I think we probably can. Johnny? Are you going to grace us with your opinion?”

“I don’t know. My objectivity is strained here. I think it’s up to Murray. And you should be in charge of the medical decisions. I’m not impartial enough.”

“You wouldn’t make the best decision for me? What’s your interest?”

“Well, on the one hand, I don’t want to spend the night in a hospital while strangers x-ray your naked body on cold tables. But on the other hand, I’m kind of scared and I’m not sure I want to be responsible for you out here alone. So there’s too much me in there and not enough you.”

“Oh. That’s really sweet, Johnny. Say, does someone have my glasses? I can’t see a thing.”

“I saw them in the head,” Roy said. “I’ll go get them.”

As soon as he was gone, Johnny took off his shoes and climbed onto the bed, lying down on top of the blankets with his arm around Murray’s shoulders.

“I’m okay, right?” he whispered, tipping his head back and getting a kiss on the nose for his trouble.

“Almost certainly. But we’re going to stay awake for two or three hours and make sure.”

“We are?”

“You bet. I’ll stay right here with you, and you’ll tell me if your headache gets worse, or your leg hurts, or you have any nausea. Okay?”

“Sure, okay. I’ve had concussions before, you know. I fall and hit my head a lot.”

“A lot, huh? Think we have to worry about brain damage?” he teased.

“Well, I’m pretty sure I’m still a genius,” Murray said, and this time he got a kiss on the mouth.

“All right, that’s enough of that,” Roy laughed, returning with the glasses. He put them in Murray’s hand and Murray put them on. “How’s your vision now? Still seeing double?”

“No. No, it’s fine. I really think I’m all right, Roy. Thank you.”

“Okay. I’ll just leave you two alone then. If you need anything, I’m going to stay up for a while and watch some TV with the guys.”

“Thanks,” Johnny said. “And if you’re already in bed, I know where you sleep.”

“Don’t hesitate to wake me up,” he smiled, and went out. Less than a minute later, Nick and Cody were at the door.

Nick had finally changed his clothes but his hair was still damp. He approached the bed hesitantly, his face stamped with fearful guilt, but it was Johnny he was looking at more than Murray. If there was going to be yelling, that was the direction it would come from. But Johnny just lay there, his arm around Murray’s neck, cradling the wounded head on his flannel-clad shoulder, smiling his crooked and self-mocking little smile. Murray’s expression was sweeter, more welcoming, and Nick knew that no apologies would be accepted on that front.

“Hey, Boz. How’re you doing? Are you okay?” he asked, crouching by the bed. Cody stood just behind him, offering his support and waiting his turn. Murray slipped his hand from beneath the blankets and laid it on Nick’s arm.

“I’m fine. I’m sorry I’m so clumsy, Nick. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“I was responsible. If I’d held on better, or asked for help—damn it, I just can’t stand it when I let you get hurt.”

“It was my pride, not yours. I should have admitted that I needed more help.”

“Let’s not play who’s the most wrong,” Johnny interrupted with a smile, stroking Murray’s hair softly. “No one ever wins.”

“Okay, we’ll just look at it as a problem to be solved,” Murray said. “First, I’ll shower less often. It’s necessary after a long hot day covered in sunscreen, but not so much in the morning. And we’ll figure out a way around my pride.”

“Dignity’s not the same as pride,” Cody reminded him. “We’ll find a way to leave you that.”

“If you don’t want Johnny being lover and nurse, maybe Roy can fill in,” Nick suggested.

“Does anything happen on this boat without everyone finding out in ten minutes?” Johnny laughed in mock frustration.

“It’s fifty-four feet long. That’s less than eleven feet per person, and it’s not all useable space,” Murray reminded him.

“Okay, okay. Murray, you mind if Roy sees you naked?”

“Hasn’t he already?”

“I think so. I covered you as quick as I could, but—yeah. He has.”

“Okay, we’ll figure it out. I’m sorry I’m so much trouble, guys. I never would have gone if I’d thought—but it’s still hard to regret,” he added, glancing up at Johnny, who smiled and kissed him on the forehead.

“I don’t think meeting me is worth eighteen hours trapped in a collapsed building, or the damage to your leg. But I’m still flattered.”

“You should be.” Then he squeezed Nick’s arm to get his attention. “See? Everything’s okay. You guys should go to bed. Or watch TV with Roy. He said he’d be up for a while. Just don’t worry about me. I hate when you worry.”

“Sure, buddy. If that’s what you want. But we’ll be up for a while, too. Johnny, if you think something’s wrong, you come and tell us, okay? Don’t let him talk you out of it. You’re the one who knows.”

“What, you think I’d listen to this genius over my own gut instinct? He’ll be fine, Nick. And if he’s not, we won’t waste any time. That’s one thing you can count on me for.” He smiled up at them, utterly calm and confident, rubbing Murray’s chest lightly with his right hand and stroking his hair with his left. Murray, snuggled into the crook of his arm, looked like he could purr.

“We are,” Nick said. “And, Murray? Don’t you try to be tough. I already feel bad enough. You make things worse for yourself, that’s making it worse for everyone.”

“I know. Thanks, guys.”

“Don’t thank me anymore, Boz, please. We really just came to say goodnight and make sure you were okay.”

“I’m fine. If you want to worry about something, plan our fishing for tomorrow.”

“You got it.” Nick leaned over and hugged him gently, then straightened up, knees popping, and stepped away. Cody hugged him next, promised him good fishing, and kissed him on the cheek. They both said goodnight again, including Johnny this time, and finally dragged themselves away. It was hard to leave him in someone else’s hands, no matter how well qualified they were, and neither of them would sleep well for it. They would sit up with Roy for a while, listening to the muffled voices and laughter from below that told them all was well, and then make love silently in the salon while everyone slept. But Nick’s dreams were haunted by Murray’s scream and the unspeakable thud of his body hitting the floor.

“We forgot my pills,” Murray said when they were alone.

“Shoot. Well, I’d call your friends back, but they’re so spooked by now, they’d be on the radio for a Coast Guard chopper before they even came to see what was wrong.” He slid his arm from under Murray’s neck and got up, careful not to jostle him. The bottles were on the dresser and he counted them out. But when he returned, he gave Murray two pills and put the third in the dish on the nightstand.

“What about my morphine?”

“Sorry, babe. Not until we know for sure how bad your head is. If you have a real concussion and I give you that, you might not wake up.”

“Oh. I guess I knew that, but it’s different when it’s you. I mean, my leg hurts and it’s hard to believe I couldn’t stay awake if I wanted to.”

“A lot of dead people thought that on their last day. It’s chemistry, Murray. You’re a scientist.”

“This is why doctors don’t treat themselves, isn’t it?”

“Probably.” Johnny was undressing as he spoke, stripping down to his boxers and laying his blue jeans and flannel shirt across the back of a chair. “You want to take your robe off? You’ll get awfully hot sleeping like that.”

“Yes, I guess I should. How will we—do I need to get up?”

“No, not so long as you don’t mind me handling you.”

“I guess I shouldn’t be so sensitive,” Murray said slowly.

“You be just as sensitive as you want. If I do anything you don’t like, just say so. One thing they really drill into us in the department is that nothing we do is _about_ us. It’s all about you.”

“But this isn’t the department and you’re not on duty,” Murray reminded him as Johnny sat him up and eased his robe down off his shoulders.

“That’s a good thing, or I’d get in trouble for being out of uniform. Lie back for me, babe.”

“You’re joking but I’m serious. This isn’t your job, this is our relationship. It’s not about me, it’s about us.”

“I know that,” he sighed, lifting Murray’s hips and sliding the robe out from under him. “You want your shorts?”

“I guess. Just in case everyone comes in and stares at me again.”

“You’re gonna get to pay me back, you know. Just wait. I’ll break my leg or hurt my back or something and you’ll be taking care of me. That’s part of relationships, isn’t it? Don’t people do that for each other?”

“But you won’t want me, will you? Won’t you want someone who knows what he’s doing?”

“Depends on how bad I’m hurt.” He got a clean pair of boxers from Murray’s bag of clothes, brought in from his own room, and slipped them carefully over his feet and up his legs, over the splint. “With our insurance, I tend to stay in the hospital until I’m up and around on my own. They take pretty good care of us.”

“So you take care of me?”

“It’s fair. You’re teaching me about really incredible sex.”

“Yes, but that benefits me, too,” Murray laughed. “I’m really honored to be your first man. And I can’t wait to do it right. You’ll be amazed at how different it is.”

Johnny grinned in that bold yet nervous way he had, and climbed back into bed. He put his arm around Murray, settling the skinny shoulders against his chest, and kissed him almost distractedly.

“Different how?” he asked cautiously. “What are you planning on doing to me?”

“For the first time? I think I ought to be on top, but I’ll still—receive. That way you won’t have to worry about hurting me.”

“I’ll still worry about it. I don’t understand how you can do that without it hurting.”

“The important thing is that I do. I’ll show you and it’ll be great.”

“But it feels different than with women?”

“Oh, yes. It’s a lot tighter, for one thing. And I mean a _lot_. Deeper, too. And, depending on the position, it’s more—accessible. I haven’t been on the giving end with guys very often, but I know I like it better. Even with condoms, it’s better.”

“Would you want me to use condoms? I’ve gotten so little sex, and the department does HIV testing for paramedics, so I know I’m clean. But I will if you want.”

“I guess it’s up to you. I know I’m clean, too, so it’s a trust issue. Do we trust each other that much?”

“If we don’t now, we probably will in a month when you get your brace off.” Johnny tilted Murray’s head back with his hand and kissed him almost tauntingly. “It still seems a little weird, but you’ve got me wanting it anyway. Is it really something you enjoy? You don’t just want it for me?”

“No, I enjoy it. You’ll see. I’m just sorry I screwed things up tonight. I really wanted to make some love.”

“It’s okay, Brown Eyes,” he murmured. “I can wait.”

Murray laughed, placing a soft kiss on his chest.

“Your eyes are brown, too.”

“That’s okay. Tell me something, Murray. If you don’t mind.”

“Anything.”

“How long has it been for you? You told me I was the first in a while, but—how long is that? A month, two months, a year? How long do you wait—in between?”

“It depends,” Murray said and suddenly he didn’t seem so eager to talk.

“Am I getting too personal? Because you can just tell me to shut up and I will.”

“No, it’s not too personal. I have a general sort of rule that, after I come in someone’s mouth, nothing is really off limits.”

“Unless it’s a no buttsex kind of relationship,” Johnny said.

“Right. But even then, I still talk. I talk too much, I think.”

“I don’t think so. And I’d like it if you kept talking. I want to hear this.”

“No you don’t,” Murray said softly. “But I’ll tell you anyway. It depends on what kind of relationship it was. How serious it was and how long it lasted. If it’s a three day fling at a conference, I’ll look for another one the next chance I get. If it was someone I really cared about, a relationship that mattered, then there’s a mourning period. The more serious it is, the longer it takes. I don’t do rebounds.”

“So I’m not a rebound? That’s good.”

“No, you’re not. The truth is, it’s been a long time. My last relationship was the most serious and it—it ended badly. About as badly as it could have, in fact. I’ve had a really hard time getting over it.”

“Are you over it now? I mean, if I’m not a rebound…?”

“You’re not,” Murray said again. “I just—it’s going to be hard to feel all those things again.”

“Do you want to tell me about it?” he asked gently, stroking Murray’s bare chest with his fingertips.

“I feel like I should,” Murray said, turning his head more against Johnny’s chest. “Remember when I said that I only had four really serious relationships?”

“Yeah?”

“Well, the first two aren’t really relevant. They cheated on me and it was hard, but it doesn’t matter now. The third, he was—abusive. He started out all right, and then he got mean. Yelling, name-calling, hitting me when I didn’t want to be hit.”

“There were times when you _did_ want to be?”

“I—well—you’ll see. The point is, I don’t ever want to be hit in the face, and I don’t want it to be out of anger, but that’s what he did. He was cruel and he enjoyed hurting me. I tried to get away, but I couldn’t do it on my own and I was too ashamed to tell the guys. It got ugly in public one night. He was drunk and he—he beat me in the parking lot outside the restaurant. Someone called the police and he got arrested. The officer who took him in was a sort of friend of ours. An enemy, but a friend, too. He’d never liked me all that much, I thought, but when he found out what was going on, that this guy was hurting me, he took it personally. The charges were steep and my ex went away for a long time. He’s still in prison, in fact. He’s got another two years to go.”

“Sounds like the cop was a decent guy for an enemy.”

“He was. He was my next lover. Number four.”

“You’re kidding. Is that why you thought he didn’t like you? Was he jealous?”

“Yes. It was all pretty funny, once we talked it over and figured it out. He was a little like you. Smart, savvy, and really good at his job. Like he was made to be one thing. His name was Ted and I loved him very much. Maybe more than I’ve ever loved anyone. He was a lot older than me, almost sixty, and I was going to stay with him for the rest of his life. We had this plan for when he retired. I never told Nick or Cody this. I didn’t want to upset them before I had to, and then it didn’t matter. But we were going to go away, Ted and I. We’d buy a house somewhere with a yard for him to garden in while I did my work, and we could travel together for lectures and things. We had it all planned.

“And then he died. He was murdered by a suspect trying to flee a crime scene. I was there when it happened and I was with him in the hospital when he died, but I didn’t believe it. He couldn’t be dead, you know? Not when we had plans. Not when we knew what kind of house we wanted and what he would grow in the garden. I thought those things would protect us. But they didn’t. It’s been almost a year and a half, but he hasn’t been dead that long to me. For me, it’s been maybe a year. And I’ve spent most of that time just grieving my heart out.”

“I—I’m really sorry,” Johnny said lamely. “I didn’t know. Are—are you ready to start up again?”

“I wouldn’t be with you if I wasn’t. I just wanted to be honest. I care a lot about you and I want to give this a fair chance, but there’s pain still weighing on my heart.”

“Of course there is. Murray, I’m sorry. I wish I could be more profound, but I don’t—I guess I can’t relate. I’ve never lost anyone that important to me.”

“Never?”

“Well, I’ve never been in love. Roy’s my closest friend. My parents don’t speak to me, but they’re still alive.”

“Why don’t they speak to you?”

“They figured it out. Reservation culture frowns on homosexuality. I was never overt, I tried hard not to shame them, but my father guessed. I couldn’t hide the truth when I was living with him, and he said he couldn’t have it in his house. I still write to my mother, send her money when I can, and I guess she takes it. She cashes the checks, but she never writes back.”

“That’s terrible,” said Murray, who couldn’t let a week go by without calling his parents.

“Yeah, well, I’m over it. It’s not like you and your Ted. But I have to ask, why did you tell me all this? Are you saying you’re not over him? Remember, I’m not good at reading clues.”

“I’m not sure I’ll ever really be over him. It was like losing a spouse. He changed everything for me. Who I was and how I saw myself—I’ll always be different—better—because of what we had. I’m telling you this because it matters a little. To us. I hope it shows you that I can make a commitment, that when I love someone it’s real. But I can let go, too. If I have to.”

“So tell me something, wise voice of experience,” Johnny said, half-teasing, still running his fingers through Murray’s hair. “Do you think it’s better to love and lose than to never love at all?”

“Yes,” he said promptly. “Oh, yes. Johnny, I wouldn’t trade what I had with Ted for anything. I’d have done it just the same, even if I’d known that he would die. I did know, really. He was twenty-five years old than me. I always knew he’d go first. I just thought we’d have more than two years. And I’m willing to fall in love with you even though I think you’ll leave me. We could have something special together, for however long it lasts, and I don’t want to miss it.”

“Why do you think I’ll leave you?” His voice was still teasing, but there was a note of seriousness in it. Johnny didn’t like being judged.

“No one stays with their first lover. And I’m probably not really your type. I’m more like the homely girl that everyone practices on before they go after the one they want.”

“You really don’t think much of me, do you?”

“I think you’re great. You’re a big, gorgeous, sexy hunk of fireman who could probably have anyone he wanted. How long are you going to want to hang around with a clumsy little geek who talks computers all the time?”

“I don’t know. At least until I learn all about computers. I hear they’re the future.”

“They’re the present, really. Just not everyone knows it.”

“So I’m on the inside track already. And what about Nick and Cody? They’re big hunky guys and they seem to like having you around.”

“They’re my friends,” Murray shrugged. “We live and work together, but they don’t love me like that. They aren’t attracted to me. Not really.”

“Not really?”

“Well, in the interest of total disclosure, we did get really drunk one night not long after I moved in, and kind of made out for a while. It’s one of those things we pretend didn’t happen now. See, guys like them, and you, just aren’t into guys like me. Not when they have a choice.”

“Well, I have a choice. I don’t have to be here right now. And in case you never noticed, I’m kind of skinny and goofy, too. Anyway, I like you a lot. You’re interesting. More interesting than the guys I work with, anyway. Firefighters aren’t generally what you’d call an intellectual group, and I can’t say I’m any better. But I have the desire to learn, even if I never had the education to go with it. All things considered, I think we could do each other a lot of good. And I’m not just saying that because I want to get laid,” he added with a laugh.

“Yeah, okay. We’ll just have to see how it goes. Anyway, I’m glad you’re here. That we’re together. And not just because I want to get laid, either.” He rolled his head back on Johnny’s shoulder, wincing at the momentary pain to his bruised scalp, and kissed him. It started out soft and teasing, then stretched out, growing slower and deeper and more intense. Murray shifted his hurt leg slightly so he could turn onto his side, easing himself across Johnny’s chest, dragging the splint behind him.

“Hey, careful,” Johnny said quietly. He caught hold of the heavy brace and pulled it across his knees so it didn’t pull on Murray’s hip. Then they were kissing again, their hands wandering freely over each other’s bodies, sliding clothing out of the way to find where they most needed to be touched, drawing out mutual satisfaction.

Murray lay on Johnny’s chest for a long time after, breathing in the warm scent of him, resting and gathering himself to move. But when he tried to, Johnny roused himself to help and shifted the immobile leg for him. He cleaned them both off, settled Murray comfortably under his arm, and covered them with blankets.

“How long’s it been?” Murray asked sleepily.

“How long has what been?”

“You said I had to stay awake for three hours. How long ago was that?”

“About an hour. How’re you doing? No nausea or dizziness? Double vision?”

“I’m fine, Johnny. Just a little headache. Did you ever notice how life is full of these anti-climaxes? Everyone made such a fuss and you were all so worried, but I’m just fine.”

“We’ll see. What kind of headache do you have? Is it localized around the bump? Are your eyes sensitive to light? Any acute hearing?”

“No, Doc. It hurts where I whacked it against the wall. My eyes and ears are fine.”

“I believe you, Brown Eyes. But how about you humor me and stay awake a while longer?”

“If I can. Shouldn’t have made me come if you wanted me to stay awake.”

“Guess I didn’t think that one through. So tell me another story.”

“What kind of story?”

“Anything. Tell me about an invention or a boyfriend or whatever’s on your mind.”

“Right now I’m thinking about you. All the things I want us to do when I’m better.”

“Still want to go camping with me?”

“I can’t wait. Sleeping on the ground under the stars, hunting for our food, surviving by our wits—it’ll be great.”

“Well, I usually sleep in a tent and pack my food. I like to camp near water, though, so I can fish for supper. Survival isn’t generally in question.”

“Tents are okay, I guess. They keep the bugs off. But we can have a campfire and make love in the grass, right? I’ve always wanted to do that.”

“Sure thing, baby. I’ll make love to you anywhere you want.”

“You call me that with respect, right? It’s not condescending?”

“I don’t think I have it in me to condescend to you,” Johnny laughed. “But if it doesn’t sound respectful enough, I’ll call you something else.”

“Call me whatever you want,” Murray yawned. “I love you just the same.”

Johnny stopped laughing and lay still, wondering if he meant it or if he was just too sleepy and concussed to know what he was saying. Then he decided it didn’t matter.

“I love you, too, Brown Eyes,” he whispered. “But you still need to stay awake.”

“I’m trying. Have you ever noticed how everything that feels good makes us sleepy? Eating, loving, playing—they all make us sleep.”

“Everything makes us sleep in the end, doesn’t it? I’m as tired after a hard day’s work as I am—now.”

“Tired isn’t the same as sleepy. If I was worn out from working, I wouldn’t want you inside me right now. But I’m just sleepy, so I wish we were making love.”

“I don’t think I know the difference,” Johnny said, but he wasn’t really thinking about that anymore. He was trying to imagine something he didn’t know anything about—what it would feel like to lie upon this lean, flexible body, to be buried inside him, moving with him, finally being able to do what came naturally to him, what he’d only been allowed, so far, to practice with unsatisfactory substitutes, and to do it with someone who was very special to him.

“You’re probably always so tired,” Murray sighed, “that you don’t know when you’re sleepy.”

“Maybe. I guess I’d try—whatever you wanted, if you were up for it. Even though I am tired.”

“A month seems like such a long time.”

“Practically forever,” Johnny agreed. “I won’t be able to see you very often, either. And you can’t call me at work. It’s not gonna be easy.”

“It never is. I had all those same problems with Ted, and more, because he lived here and everyone who saw us together knew us. At least when you come to King Harbor, you can just be a friend or a client or something.”

“But if you come to my place, you’ll always be Murray Bozinsky. People will recognize you and they’ll wonder why I know you. We’re unlikely friends.”

“You saved my life. If I want to be your friend, I can. Or you can sneak me in under cover of darkness and keep me prisoner in your castle of love.”

“Yeah, either way. You’ll be patient with me, then? Because I don’t know what I’m doing and if it looks like I’m trying to hurt you, I’m not. I’m just—I’m going to have to lie a lot, and it might look like it’s about you, but it isn’t. I’m proud you chose me. Especially after you were really in love.”

“It’s all right, Johnny. I’m going to have to lie, too, but I’m still proud of you. Just—if you ever get hurt on the job, will you tell them I’m your cousin so I can visit you in the hospital?”

“I’ll do the best I can.”

“Nick and Cody do that for me. Even though everyone in King Harbor knows us, they pretend to believe we’re are all cousins. Maybe you can be our cousin, too.”

“You’d better not get hurt. I don’t want to be visiting you in the hospital, Murray.”

“Is that why you didn’t come before?”

“What? When?”

“After the hotel, when I was in the hospital in your district for a week. I know you were around, I heard people saying your name. Why didn’t you ever stop by to see how I was?”

“I wanted to. I asked about you every day. And I did go in once, to return your glasses. But I was afraid—I was so afraid of starting—this, and then not knowing what to do, that I couldn’t say anything. You just intimidated the hell out of me.”

“Intimidated? Past tense? I don’t intimidate you anymore?” Murray asked with a grin.

“No, you still do. But not so bad I can’t talk to you.”

“How do I intimidate you, then? You have a lot of power over me.”

“Physically, maybe. But you have all the experience and most of the brains. And you could compare me to Ted, which is kind of scary.”

“I won’t, though. You don’t have to be him for me to love you. When can I go to sleep?”

“In a while.”

Roy had left the med box on the floor by the bed and Johnny rose up as he spoke, leaning over and finding the penlight by feel. They had used the same kit, arranged the same way, for fifteen years of vacation mishaps and off-duty emergencies, so he knew it well.

“Let me look at your eyes again,” he said firmly, removing Murray’s glasses. “Just look straight ahead, okay?”

“You shift gears pretty fast, don’t you?”

Johnny watched his pupils contract and expand as the light flicked across them, then laid it aside and kissed him.

“Yeah, I guess so. How’s your head?”

“Fine. Better than my leg. Can I have my pill soon?”

“If I give it to you, I’ll have to wake you up every half hour. And if you’re too groggy, you’re going to the hospital.”

“That’s okay with me. It’s just—my leg’s really starting to throb and I don’t want to cry in front of you. Again.”

“It’s your call, Brown Eyes.” Johnny gave him the pill and supported his head so he could drink. “You rest and I’ll keep watch.”

“Thank you,” Murray whispered, and Johnny felt him relax under his arm. He dozed off almost at once, but every time Johnny woke him, he was bright and alert, eager for a kiss, and as quick to sleep again. Johnny knew after an hour that he was really all right, and after two hours admitted that he’d known it all along, but he stayed up the rest of the night, waking him every half hour for the kiss and the sight of those shining eyes. Murray was right, of course. Life was full of these little emergencies and anti-climaxes, but that was okay. He would take any number of nights filled with needless worry over a single actual disaster.


	7. Epilogue

The five of them had breakfast together on deck the day they returned to port. It had been a good week at sea, with no further mishaps and plentiful fishing. Nick and Cody decided they really liked Roy, who had been married and settled for so long that he reminded them of themselves. Johnny was harder to get a read on, even after a week. They didn’t see much of him, and when he was around, his attention toward Murray could have been that of either a devoted lover or a shameless flirt. It was impossible to tell how serious he was, with his self-deprecating grin and oddly intense eyes. They weren’t even sure if Murray knew whether he meant it or not, and that uncertainty scared them a little. The little guy had been so strong, they dreaded seeing him take another blow.

But while Murray ate his pancakes in the lounge chair, Johnny sat on the deck beside him, his head tipped back on Murray’s thigh, happily listening to him talk. Nick and Cody had never met any two people who could converse so easily with their mouths full, and the chatter never seemed to stop. That might have been reassuring, but Murray talked to everyone and Johnny was trained to listen. Every clue had at least two answers, leaving them in constant doubt.

Murray stayed out in the sun after breakfast. Johnny made sure he was covered in sunblock and shaded as much as possible while Roy and Nick cleaned up the galley. If this little flirtation was as doomed as Murray’s friends feared, they could at least have these last two or three hours alone. Cody kept an eye on them from the wheelhouse, watching to see that Murray was still smiling and didn’t burn too badly.

But that small hope was easily surpassed. Murray didn’t just smile, he laughed and Johnny laughed with him. They touched each other constantly—Murray stroking Johnny’s neck as he spoke, and Johnny reapplying sunblock every twenty minutes, turning professional gestures into caresses and caresses into fact-finding missions. He was constantly aware of Murray’s heart rate and temperature, gauged with his bare hands, a skill honed over long years of practice, to ensure he wasn’t sliding into dehydration. But all of those small checks—his fingers against Murray’s wrist and throat, the flat of his hand on his skinny chest, the press of his inner wrist to Murray’s forehead—felt like something between happy accidents and foreplay, as was surely his intention.

Cody was impressed, but his traitorous mind kept adding _careless flirt_ to the list of possibilities. He wished he could just ask, but it didn’t seem right. Johnny would be offended and Murray, if he even knew the true answer, would be hurt by their mistrust. So he waited and watched, hoping for something definitive; some action that could only have one interpretation. But though he watched them all the way back to port, he never saw anything he would put money on.

That didn’t happen until they were saying goodbye.

Murray elected to stay out on deck so he could be there for every moment that Johnny was on board. Roy packed their things and brought Murray his noon medication, giving them every last second, even here where the presence of neighbors kept them from touching and whispering as much as they would have liked.

“I wish I didn’t have to go,” Johnny said quietly, crouching by his chair, elbows resting on his knees to better resist the temptation to reach for Murray’s hand. Nick and Cody paused in their busywork of knot-tying and rope-coiling to eavesdrop, and were better rewarded than they had any right to expect.

“Me too. But it was a good time, wasn’t it?”

“Best vacation of my life. When can I see you again, Brown Eyes?”

“Whenever you want,” Murray said with a shy little smile. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“I’m on duty tonight through Tuesday morning and then off for twenty-four. Is it okay if I come back then?”

“Only if you plan on staying the night.”

“You bet. I’ll try to call you tonight, but it’s hard getting any privacy. If I don’t, that’s the only reason, okay?” Johnny said, too earnestly to doubt.

“I understand,” Murray whispered, lowering his voice even more. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” He leaned over Murray’s body, touching his shoulder as if to brush something away, and stole a swift and subtle kiss. Then he was straightening up, turning to shake hands with Nick and Cody and thanking them for their hospitality while Roy watched, amused.

“You’re welcome anytime,” Cody said, and what was more, he meant it.

“That’s right,” Nick added. “You’re a pretty handy guy to have around.”

“All part of the plan. I’ll see you guys in a couple days, then. Take care of him for me in the meantime, all right?” He threw an anxious, wistful glance back over his shoulder and Murray answered it with a reassuring smile.

That was the last sign either Nick or Cody needed. Words were cheap and Johnny Gage had proven more than once that he could talk all day. But no one with eyes could call that look insincere.

It was still no guarantee that their love would last forever, but it was certainly real today.


End file.
